


Conception of Dreams

by FreakingCrups



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Animalistic Behaviour, Jealousy, M/M, Mpreg, cliche creature fic, past Harry/Justin Finch-Fletchley, possessive!Draco
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-23
Updated: 2013-02-23
Packaged: 2017-12-03 08:25:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 59,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/696272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FreakingCrups/pseuds/FreakingCrups
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Waking up naked in Malfoy's bed without the memory of what happened the night before is the least of Harry's problems. Malfoy is an Incubus and Harry is his mate and that one night comes with consequences: a conception. Now Harry has to get to know Malfoy on a deadline, while dealing with Death Eater threats. Sounds like another exciting year at Hogwarts for Harry Potter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Oh gosh, there are so many people that have stuck with me through this fic. I want to thank kitty_fic for forcing me to write when I didn’t have the muse to. She’s been holding my hand a lot lately and I wouldn’t have finished this story without her. And thank you to my darling Alex for proofing this story. It’s a lot of time out of her day and it means the world to me. I'd also like to thank singlemomsummer for her beta work as well. You worked so hard to help me! Thank you! Any further mistakes are my own. Honestly, I’m a bit worried because this is the longest fanfiction I have ever written. I hope at least one person enjoys it!

Harry dipped in and out of consciousness. As he slowly woke from a deep sleep, he resisted the urge to fall straight back into the dream that he had been dragged out of. His eyelids fluttered and he groaned as the sounds of a light snore echoed through the room. An arm circled his stomach and held his back flush against a slim but hard chest. 

He smiled as he finally managed to shake off sleep enough to open his heavy eyelids. The room was still dark, but a candle flickered on the wall beside the bed. He frowned at the darkness of the dormitory. Gryffindor had windows and if it was morning, which he assumed it was, light usually flickered through the glass from the rising sun. However there were no windows to be seen in this room. Even Hufflepuff had windows to look out of.

“Justin?” Harry whispered quietly at the man behind him. Justin was always a deep sleeper, which never really helped Harry when he needed him to release his tight hold. “Justin,” he tried again. He laid a hand on the long arm and shook it. Still he received no response. He growled and jerked his arm back, elbowing the Hufflepuff in the chest. 

The man beside him groaned in pain and the arm unwound itself enough for Harry to shift on his back. He opened his mouth to ask Justin where they were but paused at the sight of the man’s face. It wasn’t Justin at all.

“Malfoy?” Harry whispered in shock. 

Malfoy hadn’t woken up from the hit, but he sleepily ran a hand over his ribs, right on the spot where Harry had just elbowed him. 

It was then that Harry noticed that Draco Malfoy was not only lying beside him shirtless, but naked as well. He couldn’t stop his gaze from wandering down the slim chest — marked with long, thin scars and littered with light coloured hair — and down past his bellybutton, eyes following the shadow of hair that trailed to his cock. His pubic hair wasn’t the platinum blond that Harry expected it to be. Instead, it was a lighter blond, a finer colour, and trimmed. The hair encased a cock that definitely caught Harry’s awareness. Even soft, it was bloody large.

Eyes widening at the realization of not only where he was, but the fact that he was currently in the same state of undress and becoming aroused at the view in front of him, he let out a series of swear words before leaping out of bed. His foot tangled in the mass of blankets as he tried to extract himself from the mattress, causing him to trip and fall on the ground with a loud _thump_.

“Hm, what?”

Harry froze at the sound of Malfoy’s voice and silently cursed himself for his stupid behaviour. He clenched his eyes shut, praying that the other man would just go back to sleep. It would make this whole situation that much easier. Harry knew, however, that things hardly ever worked in his favour.

Malfoy’s head peered over the mattress. He stared down at Harry and raised an eyebrow. His hair was rumpled, a sight that Harry had never seen before.

“Potter?”

“Malfoy.” Harry nodded. He resisted the urge to scream and run from the room. Having the other man’s eyes roam his naked body was awkward.

“Wha-”

“Where are my clothes?” Harry finally snapped. His arse hurt and not just because he fell out of the bed. He couldn’t even remember how he got into bed with Malfoy to start with. “Where the hell are we? And how the hell did this happen? Malfoy?”

Malfoy looked around the room, before his grey eyes returned to look at Harry. He looked as shocked as Harry felt. His mouth opened and closed and after a few moments, his eyes widened. “You have to be kidding me.”

“Malfoy! Concentrate, you git.” Harry rose to his feet and willed himself to have confidence. He didn’t want Malfoy to see him with a weakness, no matter how embarrassed he was while standing naked in front of him. Malfoy didn’t say anything though. He looked like a fish out of water and it annoyed Harry. Sighing, he walked around the other side of bed where he found clothing. He didn’t know whose it was, but he didn’t care either. Slipping on the pants without underwear, he grabbed the shirt next. The shirt was definitely Malfoy’s, but with his own missing, he didn’t let it worry him.

“You’re in the Slytherin dorms,” Malfoy finally spoke. He swallowed. “Potter, this…”

“This was a mistake, Malfoy. I don’t know how it happened. Hell, I don’t even remember last night. The only thing I remember was going for a walk. I was supposed to meet up with Justin.” Harry shrugged.

“Justin?” Malfoy sneered, “Justin Finch-Fletchley? The Mudblood?”

Harry growled angrily and threw himself at Malfoy. He grabbed him around the neck and pushed him onto the bed, cutting off his air. Sitting on Malfoy’s belly, he leaned forward so their faces were inches apart. The other man didn’t struggle much, but his face had grown a shade paler from lack of air. 

“Don’t you dare insult him! You have no right, no right at all. You may have changed sides at the last moment, Malfoy, and you may have saved my life at the manor, but don’t you dare act like you are above us. You’ve fallen, Malfoy, you’ve fallen very far off your social ladder.”

Finally, he released Malfoy’s windpipe so the blond could breathe in a rush of air greedily. Harry bit his lip; the urge to apologize on the tip of his tongue. He didn’t know what it was about the Slytherin, but Malfoy always seems to rub him up the wrong way. 

As Harry was about to move, Malfoy grabbed his arms tightly; very tightly. He frowned as he tried to shake the grip off, but found that he couldn’t move his arms at all. Malfoy was strong.

“Let me go, Malfoy,” Harry hissed, baring his teeth in anger; but Malfoy didn’t listen to him. His grip only tightened before his hips thrust up. Something poked Harry in the back of his arse and he blushed, immediately realising what it was. Malfoy was hard. “Oh Merlin!”

And then Malfoy released him and Harry fell to the side, falling out of the bed and to the ground with another thump. He picked himself up quicker this time and stepped back. Malfoy was hard and he had no shame about Harry seeing or feeling it. He stared at Harry with his sharp grey eyes, watching him intently as though he was waiting for Harry to make his move.

Harry didn’t make the move that he anticipated Malfoy wanted. Instead he frowned and glanced down at a wand that lay on the floor. It was his wand. He picked it up and took two steps back, away from the blond.

“I don’t know what we did, Malfoy, but if you tell anyone, I’ll hex you into oblivion.”

Malfoy’s face changed. His blank features morphed into a sneer. “As if I would tell anyone I fucked your sorry arse, Potter.”

Harry glared. “We didn’t shag, Malfoy.”

“Right.” Malfoy snorted and stood from the bed. Harry couldn’t help the blush that rose on his cheeks. He had only ever been with Justin and Justin had nothing on Malfoy. He took a few steps back as the other man approached him. Malfoy raised a thin, blond eyebrow and smirked. “Scared, Potter?”

“You wish,” Harry barked with sarcastic laughter. “I just don’t want to catch anything.”

Malfoy frowned, his eyebrows furrowed and he crossed his arms. “Catch anything? What _are_ you going on about?”

Harry chose to roll his eyes. “You know? STDs?”

Malfoy’s frown deepened and he waved his hand. “Whatever that is, Potter. Now get out of my room, it stinks like you; tainted.” The sneer was back on his face and it was worse than before. Harry wondered if this was how Malfoy took rejection. He had just basically propositioned him for another round, after all. Harry couldn’t even comprehend that he had slept with him in the first place. He didn’t drink anything last night, so he couldn’t have been drunk. Maybe he was poisoned somehow. A love potion? It couldn’t have been.

“Malfoy, how did this happen last night?” Harry asked. The question was nagging at him and he needed answers.

Malfoy snorted and his lips curled into a sneer. “You wanted me, Potter. You were like a Crup in heat.”

Harry blushed. He felt the anger in the pit of his stomach building up once more. He glared at Malfoy fiercely and took a step forward, before faltering. Malfoy would be ready for an attack this time. He looked at his wand and shook his head. Malfoy wasn’t worth it. “Whatever, you dumb git.”

Harry spun on his heel and stormed out of the dormitory. It was the eighth year boy’s dormitory, which is why Malfoy was in there in the first place obviously. He guessed it was breakfast time, considering that Zabini and Nott were not in there as well. But it made Harry wonder if the boys saw him this morning. The curtains were not closed, which gave them the opportunity to see Harry Potter in Draco Malfoy’s bed and spread the word. He groaned at the thought of everyone knowing that he’d slept with Malfoy. Ron would kill him.

He only crossed one Slytherin, a fourth year by the looks of him, but Harry managed to slip out behind him. The Slytherin was too busy reading a book beside the fireplace to care. As soon as he escaped the Slytherin dungeons – ignoring the portrait who was insulting his ‘dirty’ blood – Harry ran to the Gryffindor Tower. He knew that he wouldn’t hear the end of it from Hermione, if she even knew that he had been gone in the first place. He passed a few Gryffindors, but they barely acknowledged him. He said the password and entered, making his way straight up to the eighth year boy’s dormitory. He grabbed clothes and a towel and swiftly made his way to the showers. After a quick, very hot shower, he dressed and steadily walked to the Great Hall.

Breakfast would nearly be over by the time he got there, but he wasn’t feeling hungry anyway. He was feeling….well; he really didn’t know what he was feeling. One usually didn’t wake up in the bed of his school rival and not remember the night before. It was completely out of character for Harry. He knew the only reason Hermione and Ron hadn’t come searching for him was because they would have assumed he was with Justin. He had many sleepovers with the Hufflepuff before and Hermione had learnt not to stay up all night worrying.

“Harry!”

Harry turned and smiled when he saw Justin running towards him. He enveloped the Hufflepuff in a hug, but quickly took a step back when he heard the Great Hall doors open. The rustle of students moving grew louder. 

Justin and Harry weren’t out of the closet, and they weren’t really planning on coming out any time soon. It had been an accident in discovering that Justin was gay, but once Harry outed himself to Justin, they chose to discover sexual experiences with each other. They weren’t romantically involved, although Justin had bought it up more than once.

“I was worried about you,” Justin spoke lowly as people started to move around them. “Hermione came to me and told me to tell you that you need to start leaving a note when you visit me. I didn’t understand at first and then I realized that she thought you were with me, but I didn’t say anything. I just told her I would.”

Harry sighed in relief. He grinned widely at Justin and rested a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it. “Thank you, Justin. I really appreciate it.”

Justin nodded. “Where were you anyway?” The tone of his voice grew serious and he stared at Harry with those big brown, doe eyes. Harry knew what was coming. He sighed.

“No, I didn’t hook up with someone else,” Harry lied. He licked his lips nervously and glanced around at the students.

“You don’t have to lie to me, Harry. I don’t mind if you did.” Justin smiled softly. Harry knew Justin wanted something real, someone to love and he hated that he couldn’t give the Hufflepuff what he wanted.

“I’m not, Justin.” He told himself that he was lying to Justin only because he shagged Malfoy, not because he shagged someone else. If it had been someone else, he may have just told the other man the truth.

Justin nodded slowly, but the hurt in his eyes told Harry that he didn’t quite believe him. He glanced over Harry’s shoulder and nodded his head towards that direction. 

Harry turned and opened his arms up just in the right amount of time to catch Hermione in them. He laughed at her antics. She swatted his arm as she pulled back.

“Did Justin give you my message?” Hermione asked quickly, huffing as she crossed her arms over her chest. Harry knew that he was in trouble.

“He did,” Harry admitted quietly, glancing behind her at Ron, pleading for support of this obvious onslaught of questions about to come. Ron just shrugged and grinned wickedly at him. His friend was going to be no support.

“Harry, what did I tell you? I told you to tell me when you stay with Justin. I _told_ you. You know I worry,” Hermione admonished in a hushed voice. She kept her voice low enough so no one else could hear.

Harry sighed and nodded. “I know, Hermione, but I’m a big boy. I don’t know why you worry. Nobody is after me anymore.” He shrugged, only to receive a slap from his friend on the shoulder. His hand jerked up to the abused arm. “Hey! What was that for?”

“Harry, just because Voldemort is dead, that doesn’t mean that the Death Eaters won’t come after you for revenge. You killed their master. Can you please have more common sense?” She huffed in exasperation and spun on her heel to look at her boyfriend. “Ronald, a little back up please?”

Ron looked surprise at the sudden attention. He cleared his throat and pointed at Harry in a very ‘stern’ manner. “Yes Harry, that was very wrong of you. Don’t go and get shagged again.”

Harry couldn’t help the laughter that rumbled in his chest at Ron’s words. Ron grinned along with him, while Justin, who had moved up to stand beside Harry, chuckled quietly. Hermione flushed and looked at Harry. “I’m not saying you can’t have sexual intercourse. You should, I mean, it’s healthy and …” She broke off, her blush only growing fiercer. “Oh, forget I said anything. Have you had something to eat?”

Harry was impressed at her change of topic. “Nope,” he admitted quietly, “I was caught up in Justin’s bed until the rest of the boys left the dorm.” It was strange how smoothly the lie came out of his mouth. He saw Justin frown at him and he prayed that he wouldn’t say anything. 

And he didn’t, much to Harry’s relief.

“I have to go,” Justin said loudly. He smiled at Hermione and Ron and said his goodbyes. He glanced at Harry, and with a small smile he walked away.

“You should start something with him, Harry,” Hermione whispered with a smile on her face, “Like go on dates with him, he really likes you.”

Harry watched Justin’s retreating back and frowned. He shook his head and stared at Hermione. “No, Justin and I are just friends,” he said with a shrug of his shoulders. Hermione sent him an indescribable look. Harry felt uncomfortable under it.

“Ron,” Hermione glanced at her boyfriend, “I forgot my book in the Great Hall, could you please go get it?”

Ron frowned and opened his mouth to reply, but the look that she gave him stopped him from saying anything. He nodded hastily, sent Harry a look of sympathy, before he scampered back towards the Great Hall.

“Want to tell me where you were last night, Harry?” Hermione bluntly asked as she crossed her arms and tapped her foot. “I am not stupid and I’m insulted to think that you actually thought you could lie to me. Justin had no idea where you were, did he?”

Harry sighed. He ran a hand through his already messy hair. He should have known that his best friend would have caught on. She was the smartest witch in their year for a reason. “No, he didn’t.”

Hermione nodded with satisfaction. “Where were you then? I was worried sick. Ron and I couldn’t—” She cut herself off. A blush formed on her face and she cleared her throat. “What I meant to say was that I was worrying all night. So where were you?” Her voice grew harder, leaving no room for arguments.

Harry shrugged languidly and glanced around the hallway. It was quickly emptying as most of the students headed off to class. Ron and Harry had a spare period, but Hermione didn’t and he hoped she would leave the topic alone and rush off to her next class. “I slept in someone else’s bed,” he admitted ashamedly.

“Harry!” Hermione exclaimed. She pulled her backpack around her shoulder so it hung on the side. She pulled out a folded newspaper and before he could avoid it, she slammed the Daily Prophet against his head.

“Ow!” He cried out, rubbing the part of his forehead that was now tender. It wasn’t a soft hit. She was clearly in an abusive mood today.

“What about poor Justin?” She continued in the same shocked voice as before.

“Justin—”

“Likes you a lot! Is that the problem? As soon as someone shows interest, you run to someone else? You did push Cho away and Ginny too!” Hermione huffed and slipped the paper back in her bag. She cocked her head to the side and impatiently waited for an answer.

Harry hesitated. He glanced over her shoulder and saw that Ron was still nowhere in sight. He was smart for keeping away. “Ginny and Cho are girls. They don’t count. You know I’m gay.”

“And so is Justin! If I remember correctly, you are shagging him!”

Harry held up a finger and smiled wickedly. “Well to be more precise, he’s shagging me.” He enjoyed the way Hermione’s eyes widened. The blush that stained her cheeks deepened and she splayed her hands over her face, hiding her obvious embarrassment.

“Oh my Merlin! Harry!”

Harry barked with laughter. He held his stomach as he doubled over. Ron chose the moment to turn up.

“You didn’t leave it in the Great Hall, ‘Mione. Did you have a look in your bag?” Ron asked, his brows furrowing as he stared at them carefully. “What’s so funny?”

Harry opened his mouth when he finally stopped laughing, but Hermione snapped, “Don’t you dare, Harry,” before she stormed passed him.

“Hermione? What happened?” Ron inquired.

Harry finally managed to cease laughing; however, small chuckles still escaped him. He wiped at his teary eyes. “I was just telling Hermione who did the shagging between Justin and I.”

Ron grimaced. “You don’t need to tell me, mate,” he muttered, his ears going red as he cleared his throat. “So, were you really in Fletchley’s bed last night?”

“Why would you ask that?” Harry frowned. He tightened his hold on his own bag and turned on his heel. They started to walk down the now empty corridor. His stomach rumbled, but he ignored it. He could just eat at lunch time.

“Hermione seems to think you weren’t. She said Justin seemed surprised when she mentioned you visiting him last night.” Ron flushed a vibrant red and reached up to scratch the back of his neck. It was sign that Ron was embarrassed about having the conversation. Harry appreciated that Ron was trying, but even he found that talking to his best friend about his sex life awkward. Just as awkward as Ron telling him about Hermione and himself when they shagged, which was rare much to Harry’s relief. “I mean, are you sleeping with some random bloke or something?

Harry felt his own cheeks flush. “Ron, do you really want to talk about this?”

“Not really,” Ron answered quickly, “but I mean…if you want to talk.”

“I don’t,” Harry said with a smile.

“Oh thank Merlin we didn’t have to go through that,” Ron laughed. “Hermione told me I had to try. But now I can just tell her that you didn’t want to talk about it. Bloody insane, she is. She wants you to get with Justin. She acts as if she is the one that has a crush on him.” He lowered his voice to mutter the next part, “bloody women.”

Harry chortled in laughter. “Why do you think I’m gay?”

***

A week. It had been a whole bloody week since Harry had been anywhere near Malfoy. Not that he was complaining. He didn’t really want to face him after what happened, but that didn’t mean that Harry didn’t find it strange. Every time Malfoy saw him, he turned and walked in the opposite direction. It annoyed Harry. He didn’t know why, but he didn’t like the fact that the other man was avoiding him. No matter how embarrassed Malfoy had been before – like the time fake Moody turned him into a ferret – he had never avoided Harry.

Hermione and Ron were starting to notice it too. Hermione had commented about Malfoy’s strange behaviour, but Harry had only shrugged it off, claiming that Malfoy had been acting weird since the start of eighth year. And it was true. Since the beginning, he never said a word to Harry and his friends. There were nods of acknowledgement, but not one insult had left Malfoy’s mouth. Hermione had said that he was improving and that just maybe, one day they could be acquaintances. Ron and Harry hadn’t liked that idea.

Just an hour before, Malfoy had entered the same corridor as Harry. He had seen him and turned, exiting the same way he entered it. It irked Harry.

“Harry?”

Harry raised his head. “What?”

“Have you been listening to anything we’ve been saying?” Hermione asked.

“Not really,” He answered truthfully with a shrug of his shoulders. It was Sunday and many of the students were outside, enjoying the outdoors rather than being stuck behind the walls. Harry and Ron were trapped with Hermione in the corridor outside of the library. It was empty, causing their voices to echo.

“Have you even started the three scroll essay that Professor Slughorn assigned to us?” Hermione questioned as she gripped the books in her arms tighter. She was holding three big, thick books, while Ron had been made to hold another four. Harry had no idea when she actually had the time to read them.

“No?” Harry dug his hands in his pockets. “What was it about?”

“Were you even listening in class on Friday?” Hermione exclaimed, shaking her head. “It was about the properties of the Beautification Potion.”

Ron sent Harry a pitying look.

“I forgot,” Harry tried to explain. He knew it wouldn’t do much good. He couldn’t tell Hermione what he constantly thinking about, because it would only create more questions. “I have a lot on my mind.”

“Like what?” She raised an eyebrow and pursed her lips disapprovingly.

“I can’t—”

Harry didn’t finish. He was grabbed from behind and before he could comprehend what was happening, he was spun around to face a very dishevelled looking Malfoy. He should have yelled at him, do something, but he couldn’t. Something inside of him purred at being touched by the other man. He heard shouts from behind him, but they felt distanced. And then he was spun again and he reached out to splay his hands on the cold stone wall of the corridor. His back was bent, his arse was stuck out and he purred again, actually purred in an attempt to be touched. He pushed his arse back, begging for it.

Hermione gasped at the sight of her best friend. She took a step forward, only to be held back by Ron, whose eyes had widened in disbelief.

“Malfoy is a…” He trailed off, choking. “Hermione, go get McGonagall, quick.”

“Ron – ”

“Don’t argue with me, Hermione. Just bloody trust me.”

And Hermione did. She turned and ran. 

Ron swallowed and took a step forward. It was slow and measured, but even the small step earned him a growl that made him jump back. Malfoy stared at him, his eyes a liquid silver, before he turned to his mate. He stood behind Harry – who was bent over, his hands flat against the wall – and ground his crotch against his arse. 

“Bloody hell,” Ron hissed, unsure what to do. He knew an Incubus when he saw one, but there hadn’t been a known one in at least two hundred years. His mother had always warned him, always told him stories about Incubi, but he never thought that he’d actually see one; and Malfoy, no less. And Harry, dear Merlin, Harry was Malfoy’s mate.

“Harry?” He tried taking another small step forward.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Weasley,” came a sneer from his right.

Ron’s head spun and he frowned at a portrait of Professor Snape. Well technically it wasn’t his portrait, but he had hijacked it from a very angry Scottish woman, who hissed and screeched at him. Her screeching was ignored.

“What do we do?” He asked. He hadn’t talked to Snape’s portrait once since he had arrived back at Hogwarts, and he hadn’t planned to. Even if he had been on their side, he still hated the git.

“Nothing, you imbecile,” Snape snapped, “Unless you don’t want your hands.”

“Giant git,” Ron muttered, glaring at the portrait. “How do we get Malfoy away from Harry?”

Snape scoffed. “Are you that stupid? Just what do you know about Incubi, Weasley?”

Ron felt the tip of his ears grow hot. He glanced towards Harry and Malfoy and shuddered. Malfoy was literally frotting against Harry. His hips slammed forward, a visible hardness in his pants grinding against a very eager arse every time. His arm was wound around Harry and a hand splayed across Harry’s flat belly. He could just see Malfoy petting it. Ron wondered if Harry would forgive him for vomiting at the sight. He wasn’t homophobic, not with homosexuality being so common in the Wizarding World, he just didn’t want to see it happen in front of his own eyes.

“My mum told me the kid’s story when I was younger,” he said meekly, turning his gaze away from Harry and Malfoy to stare back at Snape. He felt green around the gills.

“Ah, your mother is a fool,” Snape snapped in return. 

It made Ron flush and glare heatedly at the old headmaster. “Don’t insult my mother, Snape. At least she’s not dead.” He knew it was harsh, but he wouldn’t stand for the man insulting his mother; or any of his family for that matter.

“What is going on here?” A demanding voice asked from behind Ron. He turned and sighed in relief at the sight of Headmistress McGonagall and Hermione, who strode down the corridor. He thanked Merlin that no one else was here to see this sight.

“It seems, Minerva,” Snape started, his voice holding a condescending tone, “you have an Incubus and his mate in your school.”

McGonagall halted and her eyes widened as she glanced around Ron to stare at Malfoy and Harry. “Oh dear—” She took a few more steps forward, but stopped right beside Ron “—how did it reach this point?”

“My assumption is that Mr. Malfoy was trying to fight his urges, hence the situation.” Snape crossed his arms. The Scottish woman walked beside him and peered out of the portrait, but with a glare from Snape, she scampered off again, muttering nonsense.

“Malfoy is an Incubus? What do you mean fight his urges?” Hermione frowned as she took a step forward. Ron held out his arm so she wouldn’t get too close. He shook his head, signalling her to go no further.

“What? Have you not read a story on Incubi, you silly girl?”

“Severus!” McGonagall sent him a disapproving look. “You see, Miss Granger, when an Incubus bonds with his mate, he needs a sort of…sexual release once a week at the least. If they hold off for too long, they lose control of their urges. Which is why Mr. Malfoy is currently…frotting against Mr. Potter.”

Hermione swallowed audibly. “Bond? Do you mean they’ve already…?”

“Yes,” McGonagall nodded her head. “They’ve already been sexually involved.”

“Oh.” Hermione’s eyes widened as she stared at the two boys, lost in their own world. They didn’t seem to even realise that three people and a portrait were watching them closely.

“And it seems Mr. Malfoy has already impregnated Potter,” Snape pinched the bridge of his nose, “Lucius will not be happy.”

McGonagall’s gaze darted to the portrait of Snape. “How do you know, Severus?” She questioned quickly. The corners of her mouth tightened.

“By the way Mr. Malfoy is holding Potter’s stomach. He is very careful in his touch. It means he can sense a child growing inside of his mate. Stupid children playing in an adult world.” Snape sniffed indignantly.

“Harry is an adult,” Ron snapped in defence of his best friend, but he knew it meant nothing. It wouldn’t help this situation.

Snape snorted.

Harry didn’t know what was happening around him. Someone was arguing, or more than one someone.  
He didn’t know how many people were there, but he didn’t really care. All he cared about was the man that was behind him. He could feel Malfoy’s – no, Draco’s – hard erection pressing into his arse. Every time Draco jerked his hips forward, Harry would feel the hard member rub against him. It made him moan. He was hard too, but he never reached for himself. This was about satisfying Draco. This was about making sure that his Incubus had what he wanted.

Incubus. Harry didn’t know what that was, but he knew that that was what Draco was. And Harry was his mate. They were bonded and so Draco needed him. Draco needed his body, his touch. He purred when he felt nimble fingers slip under his untucked shirt and caress the skin of his stomach. Draco’s touch was soft, lingering, and it told Harry everything he needed to know. His mate would protect him and their child. His hand splayed across Harry’s taut skin of his stomach, where their child grew, and then the thrusting grew more frantic. 

Draco’s spare hand rested on Harry’s hip and fingernails dug into his clothing. Harry couldn’t feel it on his skin, because of his belt, but he knew that Draco’s fingernails dug into the leather deeply. He knew that when he looked later, he would find permanent fingernail marks. 

A growl rumbled behind him and he knew that his mate was about to come. He pushed his arse back, meeting every one of Draco’s rutting movements and then his mate’s growl grew louder.

“Ha-Harry,” was whispered again and again from Draco’s mouth before he came in his pants. Harry sighed in content when he realized his mate had found sexual release. 

Before he could say anything, darkness surrounded him.


	2. Chapter Two

Harry groaned as the darkness receded. His eyelids flickered as they adjusted to the light of the room. His back was sore, he noticed. It ached from the top of his neck, to the bottom, close to his arse. It wasn’t a harsh pain, but it was far from pleasant.

“Harry?”

Harry turned his head and blinked owlishly. Hermione and Ron sat in chairs beside the bed. Hermione leaned forward and grabbed his hand, squeezing it gently. She smiled, but it wasn’t a happy smile. It was a relieved, but sad one. It worried Harry.

“What happened?” He asked quietly, glancing around the room. He was in the hospital wing. There were two other students in beds, but besides them, the room was empty.

“Do you remember Malfoy, Harry?” Hermione inquired in a hushed tone.

Harry frowned as he thought about it. He remembered talking to Hermione and Ron and then he was grabbed. His eyes widened and he choked. His throat was parched and the thought about what happened only made it more difficult to breathe. Ron stood quickly and grabbed a glass of water that sat on the bedside table. He handed it to Harry. Harry took it gratefully and swallowed large amounts of it until he realized that if he drank any more, he’d be sick.

He gave it back to Ron, who settled the glass back down. Harry closed his eyes and groaned. He slapped a hand on his forehead.

“Harry? Did you and Malfoy…?” Ron cleared his throat. Harry didn’t open his eyes; he didn’t want to see the look on his best friends’ faces.

He decided to save Ron the trouble from continuing. “Yes, Malfoy and I shagged. But that was a week ago.”

“Harry, look at us,” Hermione ordered.

He knew now was not the time to disobey her. He opened his eyes, only to be greeted with looks of pity. He hated it. “Is that what caused this?” He shook his head. “I don’t even remember it. Bloody hell, why does this always happen to me?”

“Harry, listen to us,” Hermione squeezed his hand tighter, “this was not your fault. You don’t remember your night with Malfoy for a reason. Ron,” she cocked her head at her boyfriend, “he can explain this.”

“Ron?” Harry looked at the red head in shock.

Ron snorted. “Don’t look so surprised.” He shrugged languidly. “He’s an Incubus, mate. Malfoy is, I mean.”

“I know,” Harry whispered. He remembered what happened. He remembered everything he felt, he remembered everything he thought. Even now, he grew hard just thinking about it and he hated himself for it. Thank Merlin for the blankets. He needed to think about something else: Snape in a tutu. It did the trick. His erection withered in response to the image. “I mean, when Malfoy was…I just knew what he was.”

Ron nodded. “You’re supposed to.” He groaned and let his head drop in his hands. “Mum is going to go off her tree about this. She’s going to kill me.”

Harry frowned. “Ron?” He drew his hand back from Hermione’s grip and reached out to grasp his friend’s shoulder. He squeezed it.

Ron didn’t raise his head. Instead, he just continued. “Malfoy is an Incubus, mate. There hasn’t been one in over two hundred years. I mean, the Incubus blood runs in all Pureblood families. I guess you could say that that’s how witchcraft was born.” He finally raised his eyes to meet Harry’s. “Incubi bred with humans. They were demons and when their blood mixed with humans – Muggles – the babies that were born from the union were born with magic. So, all Purebloods have Incubus blood in them. But the genes have been dormant for so long. Incubus genes can’t – don’t – aren’t the dominant gene. The magic is dominant. It’s rare for the Incubus blood to show at all.”

Harry snorted. He was used to rare. He was the only person to survive the killing curse, after all. “And? What does this have to do with me?”

“When Purebloods are children, they are told a fairytale about the Incubus and his mate. The story goes that the Incubus was lonely and so he went out searching for his one and only: his soul mate. The Incubus came across a pretty maiden and fell in love with her. He realized that she loved him just as much and so they started a life together. On their first union, the maiden fell pregnant. The Incubus was protective of his soul mate and their unborn child. He did everything in his power to protect them. When a wizard came to take her as his own, he touched the maiden’s shoulder. Out of anger and jealousy and protectiveness, the Incubus killed the wizard for daring to touch what was his.”

“What’s the point of this children’s fairytale?” Harry snapped. He didn’t see the point of listening to it if it wasn’t going to help him in the long run.

“Harry, the point of the fairytale is that it tells you about Incubi. The children of Pureblood families have been told the story since the days when full blooded Incubi roamed the world. They were told the story to protect them from making a stupid mistake like touching an Incubus’ mate while they are in the bonding process,” Hermione explained quickly. She glanced at Ron, who nodded in agreement.

“Mate, this story is like the story Muggle children get told–”

“Like Snow White or Cinderella. Where the prince is the hero,” Hermione cut in quickly, sending Ron an apologetic look.

“Yeah, whatever those are. To the Pureblood birds–” Hermione sent Ron a glare, she really hated that term, “I mean females, an Incubus approaching them and claiming they’re his mate is a dream come true. Even Ginny used to go on when she was younger about an Incubus coming and claiming she was his mate and taking her away to be happy and start a family. It was bloody hilarious at the time.”

Harry frowned. He let go of Ron’s shoulder and sat up further in the bed, ignoring the twinging pain in his back. “So what? An Incubus is like the Pureblood version of a prince?”

Hermione nodded and smiled. “At least, that’s what I’ve taken them as. That’s how Ron explained it.”

“Fantastic,” Harry said sarcastically. He ran a hand through his messy hair and sighed. “So basically I’m Malfoy’s pretty little maiden?”

“Definitely not pretty, mate.” Ron dodged Hermione’s hand. He chuckled. “I was joking, ‘Mione. I mean, Malfoy must think Harry is his pretty little maiden.”

“Not helping, Ronald,” she snapped. She stood from her chair and sat on the edge of the bed. She managed to grab Harry’s hand again and patted it. “Harry, there is something else…”

Harry groaned. He thought this was enough information to process without there being more. And he had a feeling that it only got worse. “What is it?”

“Well…” Hermione pursed her lips and her eyes travelled from Harry’s face, down his neck and chest until she stared at his belly. Harry’s eyes followed hers. “When an Incubus finally bonds with his mate for the first time, they impregnate their mate.”

“Which…wouldn’t happen to me because I’m a bloke, yeah?” Harry asked hopefully. He knew it was a useless attempt. He had heard about men in the Wizarding World falling pregnant. He wasn’t stupid. He had done his research on gay sex; he had been a curious teenager after all. 

Hermione frowned. “Well, um. With wizards, male pregnancy isn’t unheard of in the magic world.”

Harry groaned loudly, causing the two other students in the room to look at them. He glared, making them avert their gazes quickly. “Hermione,” he snapped quietly, “you’re telling me that Malfoy has knocked me up?”

 

“Well…”

“Yeah, mate, he did,” Ron answered for Hermione. “You’re up the duff. You’re going to get fat.”

“Ronald, really!” Hermione huffed as she looked fiercely at him. “Have a little more consideration.”

Harry shook his head furiously. “No, Hermione. I needed a straight answer. So what the hell happens now? Where’s Malfoy? Did he faint too?” So many questions were running through his head.

Hermione nodded. “He fainted. But he wasn’t out for as long as you. He left early. His parents are here, Harry, and we can’t say much more because they want to talk to you about it.”

He snorted. He could just imagine Lucius Malfoy’s face when he was told that Harry Potter was his son’s mate. Malfoy would have been furious. “Fantastic. Just fantastic. Are they going to tell me why the hell I can’t remember how I got to the stage of shagging Malfoy? If I had known all of this, I bloody wouldn’t have left the Gryffindor common room, now would I?”

Ron snorted. “I hear you, mate. But nobody would have known except Malfoy. The bloody git wouldn’t have known what was wrong though. He probably thought he was going crazy after he started getting the urge to pounce on top of you and shag you.” He cleared his throat, a sign of his growing awkwardness about the subject.

Hermione rolled her eyes in exasperation. “Harry, an Incubus cannot act on their mate unless their mate shares a similar attraction towards them. Which means, Malfoy was attracted to you before this, and you were just as attracted to Malfoy.”

“That’s bollocks, Hermione,” Harry exclaimed, holding up his hands in defence of himself. “I never felt any attraction to that pointy chin git.”

“I don’t know, mate, you were pretty obsessed with him in sixth year,” Ron offered.

Harry glared at him. “Because I knew he was up to something. I was right, wasn’t I?”

“Oh stop this,” Hermione snapped. “Harry, you were attracted to him whether you care to admit it or not. Being that, Malfoy’s Incubus blood took control. You were both in dream state when you had sexual intercourse. That means that he would have called out to you, as an Incubus would, and it put you in that state. Malfoy would not have remembered it either because he was in that state already.”

Harry grunted. Great. That was _exactly_ what he needed to hear. “And now I have to go see Incubus Snr?”

Hermione huffed. “Yes, now get up and get dressed.”

Harry knew he didn’t have a choice. He drew the curtains closed when Hermione and Ron stood outside of them and started to get dressed. He removed the pyjamas he was put in and grabbed the clothes that Hermione had left on the bedside table. Before putting on a shirt, Harry stared down at his belly. It was hard to believe that there was a baby growing in there. It had only been a week since Malfoy and he had shagged, so he knew it would be a while before he saw any change in his appearance, but with the lack of physical proof, Harry didn’t quite believe it.

His fingers caressed the skin and he sighed. He didn’t like this at all, but if he was pregnant, he knew that he was stuck in this rut whether he liked it or not. He wasn’t going to get rid of the baby. Harry never really imagined himself with a family so young. He knew that one day he would have found a man that he wanted to marry and have children with, he just didn’t expect it to be when he was eighteen. And he certainly didn’t expect it to be with Malfoy.

“Harry, are you okay?”

He sighed at Hermione’s voice. He slipped on his shirt and opened the curtains. “Fine,” he answered sombrely. “Let’s get this over and done with.”

The walk to McGonagall’s office was quiet. Every so often, Hermione would look at Harry and open her mouth, only to snap it closed again and return her gaze forward. It happened three or four times before they finally reached the statue. Hermione muttered the password and Harry led the way. When they reached the door, he knocked lightly.

“Come in, Potter.”

Harry pursed his lips and opened the door. He resisted the urge to turn and walk back out when he saw the faces he was dreading to see. Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy sat on the chairs to the right, with their son sitting in the middle of them. They all stared at him carefully. Malfoy’s lips were pressed together tightly and after only a short time of staring, he looked away. It irked Harry. It was his fault they were in this situation; the least he could do was look at him.

“Sit down, Potter,” McGonagall said lightly. He could hear the concern in her voice.

Harry nodded shortly and walked over to the left of the room, where another three chairs sat. He sat in the middle one, with his best friends sitting on either side of him. Hermione grabbed his hand for moral support and Harry smiled thankfully.

A growl sounded through the room. Hermione’s hand darted away from Harry and she glanced at him apologetically. It caused anger to rise in Harry’s chest.

“Shut up, Malfoy,” he hissed angrily.

Malfoy snorted and crossed his arms, but didn’t speak. His mother did that for him. “Mr. Potter, thank you for coming today.”

“I didn’t get a choice, did I?” Harry cursed himself for sounding so impolite. The woman had saved his life, yet that didn’t stop the feelings of turmoil burning in his stomach. 

Mrs. Malfoy nodded in understanding. “This has come as a surprise to all of us, Mr. Potter, including Draco. As I am sure Mr. Weasley told you, there hasn’t been an Incubus in well over two hundred years. When Draco owled us after he woke, we were just as shocked as Headmistress McGonagall and your friends.”

“It’s not as if we wanted you as our son-in-law,” Lucius Malfoy drawled in a deep voice. He raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms, “this is not pleasant for any of us, Potter.”

“Lucius, please,” Mrs. Malfoy sent an exasperated glance towards her husband. Harry saw her lean behind her son and he swore he heard her whisper something about handling the situation with politeness. Mr. Malfoy only scoffed, but didn’t comment. Mrs. Malfoy seemed satisfied with the outcome and turned back to Harry.

“I apologize, Mr. Potter. Draco is having as hard a time dealing with this as well. If I may say, he may even be having a harder time than you.” She reached over to pat her son’s very tense arm.

“He’s not the knocked up one, is he?” Harry scowled at Malfoy. He hated him even more for getting him pregnant.

Mrs. Malfoy nodded. “That’s true. But even pregnant, you will still be yourself to a certain extent. Draco, on the other hand, will become more protective and possessive. He will forget every mannerism he was taught in order to be a provider for you. He will growl at people who touch you, as you saw, and he will injure or even kill if it means your protection. You could say that he will possess a more animalistic attitude until you have your child.” 

Harry frowned. His hand unconsciously moved to his belly and he splayed a palm over it. Malfoy watched him carefully, his head cocked. It was strange; to think that Malfoy would actually act protective of him. The man had been nothing but the opposite since the beginning of their first year. Not to mention, Malfoy had been too frightened to disobey Voldemort, how was he supposed to protect Harry and this child if he was tormented by fear?

“There is no way out of this, is there?” Harry asked quietly. He looked at Headmistress McGonagall, who shook her head curtly.

“No, there is not, Potter.”

Harry nodded. He glanced from Hermione to Ron, who both refused to meet his eye, and sighed. “Malfoy and I hate each other.”

Mrs. Malfoy chuckled at this. “I do not believe this is so, Mr. Potter. There needs to be attraction there, or even longing, for the bonding ceremony of an Incubus and his mate to happen. If there was not, an Incubus would spend years creating a connection with their mate. You and Draco already had something for it to work so quickly.”

Harry sniffed. “I hardly know your son, Mr. Malfoy.”

“Apparently, you know him well enough.” Mrs. Malfoy smiled at him. Her deep blue eyes stared at him and he shifted uncomfortably under the look. It felt like she was staring into his soul. “You are carrying my grandchild, Mr. Potter. As such, Lucius and I will protect you against all threats. You are to become a Malfoy, after all.” Harry opened his mouth to retort, but she cut him off by continuing. “You and Draco may not see eye to eye as of yet, but you will. We have all agreed that it would be best if you get to know each other.”

Harry shook his head. “It’s not really your choice to make,” he barked angrily.

“Yes, it is, Potter.” McGonagall stood from behind her desk and walked around the front of it. “I do not agree with this either, however it is nature and there is no way to fight it. Professor Dumbledore,” she turned to gaze at the painting of the old headmaster, who smiled around the lemon drop he was sucking on, “believes it is a good idea. It is a joined union. The former Death Eaters are becoming restless. With the Malfoys protecting you, there is less chance of an attack.”

“But Professor, this is for life,” Harry sat forward on his chair and looked up at her pleadingly. “I’m pregnant.”

“Yes and it has come at an unfortunate time,” McGonagall sighed, “but none the less, Potter, it has happened.”

“It has given the boy another reason to whinge,” came a nasty sneer.

Harry glared behind the Malfoys at the portrait of Professor Snape. He respected the man, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t detest him as well. “I don’t whinge. You try finding out you're pregnant with your enemy’s child.”

“Severus,” McGonagall warned, her eyes narrowing as she stared at the portrait.

“I’m not your enemy, Potter,” Malfoy drawled. “I don’t like this any more than you, but it’s done.”

“Yeah, well how about you get fat with my baby. Let’s see how you like that!” Harry snapped. He stood from his seat, but Hermione’s hand only pulled him back down again.

“Fortunately, Potter,” a smirk formed on his face, “you’re the only one who will be pregnant in this little joke. Incubi are dominant and you do look like a bottom boy to me.”

Harry stood too quickly for Hermione to grab him this time and he pulled out his wand. In two strides, he had the tip of his wand pressed into Malfoy’s neck. He noticed that Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy never stopped him; instead, they stood and backed away. He heard a noise of surprise and he had a feeling that Ron had pulled Hermione backwards as she moved towards Harry.

“I’m not a bottom boy, Malfoy.”

Malfoy stared up at him, his smirk growing larger. Before Harry could move, Malfoy stood and grabbed him. He pushed him onto McGonagall’s desk, items flying off it as Harry’s back slammed onto it. Malfoy was on top of him, holding him down with his weight.

“Yes you are, Potter. All Incubus mates are, male or female. You’re my bottom boy. You’re going to stick your arse up in the air every time you see me. You’re going to beg me to shag you into the bed. You’re going to want to be knocked up with my child all the time.” Malfoy leaned over to whisper into Harry’s ear. His hot breath sent shivers down Harry’s spine. “Did I tell you Incubi and their mates usually have more than five children. It’s because they crave children. And Incubi mark their claim on their mate by having them full with child all the time. How do you like that idea, Potter?”

Harry swallowed. “Get off me, Malfoy,” he whispered. He wasn’t quite sure that’s what he wanted, not with his current growing erection. It was going to get embarrassing, especially with not only Malfoy’s parents around, but with Hermione, Ron and McGonagall too. 

“Do you really want that, Potter?”

Harry jumped when he felt Malfoy’s tongue trace the shell of his ear. His eyelashes fluttered and he licked his lips. His mouth suddenly felt dry. “No,” he said before he comprehended the word that came out of his mouth. Malfoy chuckled deep in his chest as he pulled away so Harry could see his face.

“That’s what I thought, Potter.” And then his weight was gone. 

Harry’s senses came back to him and he flushed red. He stood and growled at a laughing Malfoy. Everyone else stood to the side of the room, a couple of them were watching carefully. Ron’s face was particularly red, while Hermione’s gaze darted anywhere but at them. The Malfoys didn’t seem to have a problem watching and McGonagall seemed a little dazed at the scene before her.

“Bugger off, Malfoy,” he hissed furiously. He straightened his mussed clothing.

“As much as I would love to, Potter, unfortunately, I need you to wank me off,” Malfoy leered.

“Really, Mr. Malfoy, a little more decorum if you would please,” McGonagall stepped forward. “Potter, there is much you have to learn about Incubi and their mate. Most is usually learnt through growing up, but as you are not a Pureblood and you grew up with Muggles, your knowledge on this subject is limited. I’ve given Miss Granger a book on the matter and I’m sure she’ll help you read through it.” It was another way of her saying that Hermione would explain everything to him, he knew it.

“And I would be pleased to answer any questions you have, Mr. Potter,” Mrs. Malfoy smiled as she took a few steps forward. “And Draco would be free to as well. Seeing as you will be seeing each other more often, there is always time for questions and such.”

Harry heard the portrait of Snape snort and he turned to glare at the offending man. He shook his head. “Will I be wanking Malfoy off once a week? It’s not about getting to know each other, is it? It’s about Malfoy coming.”

McGonagall sighed. She strode around her desk and pulled out her wand. Muttering a spell, she watched the objects that fell off her desk return to their previous spot. “Mr. Potter, Mr. Malfoy does need sexual release, yes. However, we wish for you to get to know each other as well.”

“Wait,” Harry frowned at the headmistress. “So I don’t have to wank him off? I mean, he could just rut against me like before? I don’t have to touch him?”

McGonagall’s lip quirked upwards and she nodded. “Sexual release is all Mr. Malfoy needs. Isn’t that correct?” Her sharp gaze turned to Malfoy.

He sniffed indignantly at the question and waved his hand at Harry. “Whatever, as long as I get off twice a week.”

“Twice a week?” Harry’s jaw dropped open. “I thought it was once a week?”

“No, Mr. Potter. Twice a week. Once a week is the maximum amount of time he can control his Incubus side. As you saw, if he leaves it once a week he could lose control as he did today. Losing control isn’t a good thing for Draco.” Mrs. Malfoy didn’t act as though any of this bothered her. Harry suspected that she may even enjoy the look of embarrassment on his face. She was talking about her son’s sex life like anyone else would talk about the weather.

“And what about my sex life? I can have one of those, right?” Harry could feel his face flush, but he didn’t let his discomfort show. He wouldn’t show weakness to these people. He heard a noise of surprise from Ron’s throat, but he ignored his friend. He knew how awkward he must have been feeling. Harry felt sorry for him.

“Not unless it’s with me, Potter,” Malfoy drawled. A smug smirk lazily tugged at his lips. He sat in his recently vacant chair and crossed his legs. The git looked too smug for his own good.

“You can’t tell me who I can shag, Malfoy,” Harry replied. He wasn’t going to let Malfoy bully him around. He didn’t control his sex life.

“On the contrary, Potter, I can.” Malfoy raised an eyebrow challengingly.

“What my son means to say, Mr. Potter, is that he is very possessive and an Incubus does not share his mate.” Mrs. Malfoy’s smile was strained. “Basically, you are in it together for life.”

“And what happens if Harry does engage in sexual activity with someone else?” Hermione finally spoke up. She stepped closer to Harry, but didn’t touch him. Her face looked strained, but when she saw him looking, she tried her hardest to smile. He smiled back. At least he knew he had his friends to rely on.

“If Potter cares about them, he better not. Because I will kill,” Malfoy shrugged. His voice was calm and it made it eerie because he was talking about killing someone. But then again, Harry never did trust the Malfoys.

“Draco, please. You’re as bad as your father, really.” Mrs. Malfoy clasped her hands together as she stared disapprovingly at her son. “Mr. Potter, Incubi are creatures who settle for one person for their entire life. They expect the same from their mate.”

“And of course, Potter, if you cheat, Draco will have no problem with killing them. It does state in the law that he has every right.” Snape chuckled knowingly. Mr. Malfoy snorted gently, most likely to hide his own laughter. Harry glared at both of them. His eyes moved from the portrait to the blond haired man, before he shook his head in exasperation.

“This is too much. First, you tell me Malfoy is an Incubus,” he waved his hand at Malfoy, who sat languidly in the chair, “then you tell me that we shagged and he knocked me up because we’re attracted to each other.” His hand movements grew more exaggerated and his voice grew louder. He heard some of the former headmasters murmur about his ‘rudeness.’ “And now you’re telling me that I have to get Malfoy off twice a week and I can’t get shagged by…” He trailed off and groaned. “This is ridiculous. I’m leaving.”

He ran out the door. He ignored the calls that followed him. He didn’t want to hear about this anymore. He just knew that he had to get out of there. He needed to breathe and he couldn’t while he was surrounded by all those people.

He ran until he couldn’t run any longer and collapsed on the ground. His knees hit the cement hard and he groaned. A sick feeling rolled in his stomach and he grabbed his middle, gagging. He was bent over, and the one hand and two knees holding him up felt as though they were about to give way. When he was sure they were going to, two arms wrapped around his stomach, holding him still. He retched and then before he could stop himself, the contents of his stomach made its way up his throat. He vomited onto the ground beneath him. It happened about three times before he felt better.

He was moved away from the vomit and rested on the ground. Harry closed his eyes, wishing away all of his problems. He knew who was beside him, he could smell him.

“What shampoo do you use for your hair?” Harry asked without opening his eyes. He didn’t want to see his face. He wanted to pretend he was talking to someone else. Maybe Justin. Justin…He didn’t want Malfoy to hurt his friend.

“I make it. It’s a potion,” Malfoy drawled.

“A potion for your hair?” Harry questioned disbelievingly. He finally managed to gain the courage to open his eyes. Malfoy sat beside him, watching him carefully.

“Potter, you and I never really saw eye to eye–”

“You think?” Harry snapped. Maybe he should close his eyes again.

“But come on, before this, we were getting along.”

Harry really wouldn’t call it getting along. It was more about avoiding each other. If he was honest with himself though, Harry could admit that they did have civil conversations. They had worked with each other in a Potions class once. Slughorn had paired them up. Malfoy had actually been nice and explained how things worked.

“Why did this happen?” Harry groaned and fell on his back so he was lying on the cold cement. His head hit the stone with a loud thump.

“Careful, Potter.” Malfoy actually looked concerned as he stared at Harry. “I don’t know. Can’t explain it really, but listen, it’s happened and you’re pregnant with my kid. We should make something out of it, right? Can you imagine our bloodlines mixed? Our kids will be powerful.”

Harry grunted. “Malfoy, it’s not about power. It’s about a child. A child we have to raise and love. How are we supposed to do that when we don’t care for each other?”

Malfoy looked insulted at those words. He sniffed. “Potter, we were obviously attracted to each other for the bonding to occur. So why don’t you just admit that you wanted me too?”

Harry sat back up and crossed his arms. “You admit that you are attracted to me?”

Malfoy looked anywhere but at him. There wasn’t much to look at, not when everything around them was stone. There weren’t even any portraits on the walls. So he looked at his shoes. “Maybe; you’re not the worst looking person around.” He shook his head, displacing some of his perfectly styled hair. Harry had to resist from reaching up and tucking it back in its place. “Either way, Potter, we’re here. We should at least try, yeah?”

Harry frowned. His eyes travelled to his vomit and he grimaced. Malfoy must have seen what he was looking at because he raised his wand and spelled it away. “I was sick.”

“You’re pregnant, Potter,” Malfoy raised an eyebrow and smirked. “Vomiting comes with it.”

“But I’m only a week along.” Harry paled. “You don’t think something is wrong, do you?”

“No. Some people start vomiting earlier than others. I read about it in…You know what, it’s probably just shock. I mean, our lives just changed permanently.” Malfoy cleared his throat. Harry couldn’t help the smirk. So Malfoy was already reading up about pregnancy. “Anyway, are we going to work at this together or what?”

Harry sighed. “You’re a git, Malfoy. You’re rude, selfish and spoilt. My child will not be like that, are we understood? And you’ll stay being nice to my friends.”

Malfoy snorted, but nodded none the less. “Deal, Potter. And we meet on Saturday and Wednesday nights, yeah?”

Harry licked his lips. He stared at Malfoy and noted the anticipation in his eyes. They were a funny colour, his eyes. He didn’t know why this was the first time he was really noticing them. They were grey, but had a flick of blue in them, and yet they still held certain warmness to them. It was only very small flick of blue, but it was there. He had beautiful eyes. Harry shook his head to clear his thoughts. “What about homework, Malfoy?”

Malfoy smirked. “I’ll help you with it.”

Harry hesitated, before nodding. Just what has he gotten himself into?


	3. Chapter Three

The first date they had was on Wednesday night. Harry really wouldn’t call it a date, considering it consisted of Malfoy frotting up against him. But Malfoy did promise that they would get to know each other. Harry still wasn’t happy with the whole situation and he was determined to find a way out of it. Hermione had told him numerous times that he couldn’t, but he didn’t really want to believe it. Malfoy was still his snarky self when they saw each other in corridors, but there was no insults. What was even stranger was the lack of insults from any of the other Slytherins. Harry wondered if Malfoy had talked to them.

It was 6.30pm and Harry had promised Malfoy that he would be at the Room of Requirement at 7pm. It had taken him half an hour to choose the right clothes and now he was looking at himself in the mirror. His jeans were frayed and paled in colour, while his shirt was a button up and long sleeved. It was a dark blue and probably the only decent looking shirt he owned. The others were too informal and not suitable for the weather outside. On top of his dress shirt was a jacket, made of soft wool. His outfit was far from fancy, but it was the only sort of clothing he wore. And he wasn’t out to impress Malfoy anyway. He had tried to tame his hair, but it was to no avail, so he gave up after only five minutes.

“Don’t you look nice?” Hermione entered the eighth year boys’ dormitory and smiled at Harry. She analysed him up and down before nodding in approval. It caused a blush to rise on Harry’s face. “Are you trying to impress him?”

“What?” Harry spluttered. He looked at himself in the mirror again and snorted. “These clothes are terrible. I’m not trying to impress him at all.”

“They are the best you own and you were just trying to fix your hair,” Hermione pointed out with a knowing smile. She walked to Ron’s bed and sat on it beside her boyfriend. Ron chuckled and nodded.

“You should have seen him half an hour ago, he was going insane about what to wear.”

“I was not!” Harry protested, but it seemed to fall on deaf ears.

“Harry, you really do need some dressier clothes. Can I take you to Madame Malkin’s? Maybe to get some formal robes and nice dress shirts?” Hermione cocked her head as she surveyed him carefully. 

The attention made him feel embarrassed. “I don’t see what’s wrong with my clothes,” Harry tried, shrugging his shoulders as he stared at himself in the mirror. He certainly didn’t look as good as Malfoy did in the fashion department, but he felt comfortable. He must have said it out loud because he saw Hermione and Ron raise an eyebrow at him through the mirror.

“Malfoy does dress quite well, doesn’t he?” Hermione commented with a wider grin.

“Right ponce, he is. Definitely gay.”

“Ron, really. Now you’re just stereotyping,” Hermione huffed and whacked Ron lightly over the back of the head. Ron groaned and rubbed the spot that she hit. “Are you starting to take more notice of him, Harry?”

Harry’s eyes widened at the question. “No!” He exclaimed quickly, far too quickly. “I mean, everyone notices that!”

“Yes, most of the girls are attracted to him,” Hermione nodded, “now that I think about it, I used to hear Lavender and Parvati talk about how nicely he dressed. They thought he was attractive.”

“Who is attractive?”

Harry groaned when Seamus and Dean entered the room. Seamus seemed insulted by it.

“Wow, Harry, I didn’t know our presence was so welcome,” he chuckled as he walked over to his bed. He bounced on it on his knees until he found the right spot and sat down on his arse. “You going on a date or something?”

“No,” Harry said quickly.  
“Yes,” Hermione said at the same time.

Harry glared at her. “It’s not a date, Hermione.”

“Technically it is, Harry,” she waved her hand. “A date consists of the two participants getting to know each other. Which you will be doing.”

“Yeah, right after he frots against me until he comes,” Harry muttered darkly.

“He? Woah, I didn’t know you were gay, Harry.” Dean leaned closer to Seamus and patted his thigh. “You owe me five galleons.”

Harry groaned again, louder than before. “You bet I was gay?” He asked as he spun on his heel.

“Well, yeah. I mean, your dates with girls have gone disastrous. Ginny even said you kissed like you weren’t into it. She was the one who told me you might be gay,” he shrugged his shoulders as though it was reason enough.

Ron seemed to pale at the mention of his sister. “Can we not talk about Ginny please?”

Hermione nodded in agreement. “Harry has a date, after all. You better start leaving, Harry.”

Harry licked his lips nervously. He didn’t know if he was ready for this, but he wasn’t going to back out of it. He couldn’t, whether he wanted it or not. Giving his jacket a tug, he glanced at himself once more in the mirror, before turning on his heel and walking out of the room with a wave of goodbye.

As he walked through the common room, he received a few curious glances, but no one said anything. Ginny stared at him for the longest, but he pointedly ignored it. Even though his pace was speedy, the walk to the Room of Requirement felt like it would never end. Harry blamed the nerves that were buzzing through his body. His palms were sweaty and he felt his face heat up. He didn’t understand why, this was just bloody Malfoy that he was going to see, after all.

When he finally reached the hallway that the room was situated in, he closed his eyes and waited. When he opened them, a door replaced the bare wall. He smiled and opened the door and entered. The sight that he was met with was surprising. A dinner table sat in the middle of the room. Above it, candles floated, lighting up the dimly lit area with a soft glow. A yummy smell assaulted Harry’s nostrils and he realized just how hungry he was when his stomach rumbled. Further in the corner was a bed, but Harry refused to look at it. He didn’t want to acknowledge that it even existed. Instead, his eyes returned to the table, where various foods were set out and still steaming hot.

Harry jumped when the door opened behind him and he turned to see Malfoy enter it with a smug smile on his face. The grey eyes darted around the room, before finally resting on Harry.

“How sweet, Potter,” he drawled, “I’m glad you remembered the bed as well.”

Harry’s face flushed and he glared at Malfoy heatedly. “I didn’t do this, Malfoy. I thought it was you. But how stupid was I to think that? You wouldn’t know what nice was if it slapped you in the face.”

Malfoy assessed his appearance from top to bottom before snorting. “I could say the same to you. Don’t you have nicer clothes than that, Potter?”

Harry pulled out his wand from his jacket. “Don’t push me, Malfoy. I can walk away right now if I want to.”

Malfoy sighed. He didn’t say sorry, but the look he gave Harry was enough for him to assume that he would try to avoid insulting him again. Harry nodded, but didn’t return his wand.

“I’m guessing my mother did this,” Malfoy explained. He gestured towards the beautiful table. “After you.”

Harry glowered and stalked over to table. He sat down in one of the chairs. Only then, did he replace his wand. “Your mother is nice.”

“She tries to be. Something about reminding people we are still the Malfoys,” he shrugged as he moved to sit down on the opposite side of Harry. Malfoy watched Harry carefully, as though he was trying to figure him out. It made Harry twitch in his seat.

“She saved my life,” Harry said politely. He avoided looking into Malfoy’s eyes. 

“She did,” Malfoy agreed. His voice betrayed an emotion that Harry had never seen in him and he couldn’t resist turning his gaze to stare at him. Malfoy looked proud of his mother and it shined through his smile and eyes.

“She loves you,” Harry tried again. He respected Mrs. Malfoy and he knew that she was a common topic between him and Draco. While he didn’t know her personally, she had shown a loyalty to her son that every mother should have. For that, he could see why she had done what she did. Lucius Malfoy, on the other hand, was a coward.

“Why are we talking about my mother, Potter?”

Harry sighed. “You said you wanted to try, Malfoy. I’m starting a conversation,” he snapped angrily. Merlin, this man infuriated him.

Malfoy was silent for a moment. He finally broke it by exhaling loudly. “What do you see in Finch-Fletchley?” His voice was deadly quiet.

“What?” Harry asked in surprise. He didn’t know that Malfoy was aware of Justin. Sure, when he had woken up in Malfoy’s bed, he had mentioned Justin’s name, but he would never have thought that Malfoy would work it out.

“Finch-Fletchley. You’ve been shagging him before all of this happened. What did you see in him?”

Harry noticed Malfoy’s eyes darken and the corners of his mouth were strained. His hands were on the table, but they were scrunched up in fists so tightly that they turned a shade paler than his normal skin colour. Harry grimaced. “He was the only other gay man that I knew about in Hogwarts. We wanted to experiment. How did you know that we shagged?”

“Don’t underestimate my sources, Potter.” Malfoy shrugged it off, “You feel anything for him? Is that why you asked if you could continue shagging other people?”

Harry sighed impatiently. He glanced down at the food and stabbed some. He didn’t want it going cold. He forced a large amount in his mouth and chewed on it. Malfoy watched him, his face morphing from strained to amusement.

“What?” Harry said when he finally swallowed. “I’m hungry.”

Malfoy raised an eyebrow.

Harry sighed. “I don’t feel anything for him. We were just shagging.”

“And it has ceased?” Malfoy asked quietly. There was an unreadable expression in his face. 

Harry swallowed and nodded. It seemed to satisfy Malfoy because he smirked and leant back in his chair. He crossed his arms and with slow, languid movements, his eyes roamed over Harry’s chest. Malfoy couldn’t see below his chest, but Harry couldn’t help but lay a hand on his stomach. He hadn’t vomited since the last time he was with Malfoy, which made him think that it was just from the shock, but he still couldn’t quite believe that there was a baby in there.

“You have to go see Madame Pomfrey tomorrow,” Malfoy said as his gaze zeroed in on the arm that was snaked beneath the table and touching his belly.

“Why?” Harry asked curiously.

“Because you need scans done, to make sure everything is okay with the baby. My mother told me that you have to visit Pomfrey on a regular basis, just so she can keep an eye on the child. You’re pregnancy is going to be harder than normal, Potter, you are having an Incubus’ baby, after all.”

“Oh,” Harry stared down at his very flat belly and frowned. Pregnant. Pregnant. The word seemed foreign on his tongue. “I thought it was too early for a scan?”

“For Muggles, yes, but not for us. I don’t know how they work though, you’ll have to ask Madame Pomfrey. And I want to be there, of course.” Malfoy’s voice was rougher than before.

Harry’s stare darted up to look at the other man. Malfoy’s eyes hadn’t left Harry’s arm, but he seemed less focused on the present. He looked as though he was deep in thought.

“Why, Malfoy?”

Malfoy broke out of his trance and sighed. “Because my Incubus blood is asking for it, Potter. You’re carrying my child. An Incubus’s main priority is their mate and children. My instincts are telling me to be there for you and our baby.”

Our baby. He had expected to hear Malfoy say ‘my baby,’ but he had never expected him to say ‘our baby.’ It was bizarre to hear and Harry wasn’t sure if he liked it or not. 

He swallowed. Harry looked away from the blond and ran a hand through his untidy hair. He hated Malfoy, he told himself, he hated him and he should care that all of this was happening. It was happening too quickly. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. He was supposed to find a man later in life that he loved and then he would start a family. If it hadn’t been for the Incubus blood, Malfoy would never have approached Harry to begin with.

He closed his eyes tightly. “Can we just get this over and done with, Malfoy?” Harry asked in a quiet tone. He left the food on the dish and stood. Even though he had only taken one large bite of it, he was suddenly feeling less hungry. “Where do you want me?”

Malfoy seemed surprised. He stared at Harry with confusion. “You need to eat.”

“I’m not hungry,” Harry protested gently.

“You need to eat for the baby, Potter,” Malfoy argued back. He stood from his seat and walked around the table until he stood directly in front of Harry. “Eat,” the command was said lowly. Harry didn’t know what possessed him, but he felt compelled to comply with Malfoy’s – Draco’s – orders. He sat back down at the table and took another spoonful of food and shoved it into his mouth.

Malfoy was satisfied as he sat back down in his own seat. “An Incubus must protect his mate and child at all times, Potter. I’m sorry I compelled you, but I needed you to eat.”

Compel, the word was unfamiliar to him, but he knew what it meant. He knew it meant that Malfoy had used his scent on him so that he would obey his orders. Incubi used their scent only when it was needed in the protection of their child or mate. The compelling wasn't worrying Harry, at least not yet, but the fact that Malfoy apologized for it baffled him. He had never heard him apologize for anything before. It was weird for him to hear.

He ate like he was told to and only when he had finished was he brought back to reality. It felt like a jolt and then Harry was on his feet, wand in hand as he dug the tip of it into Malfoy’s throat. Malfoy didn’t seem surprised, he looked calm and it peeved Harry. 

“What did you do to me, Malfoy?” He growled.

“You know what I did to you, Potter,” Malfoy answered tranquilly. He stared directly into Harry’s eyes, unmoving.

“Why?”

“Because you were acting stupid as you usually do. Do I have to remind you that you are feeding two people now, not just one?” Malfoy’s hand whipped out and slapped away Harry’s wand. It was thrown out of his hands and onto the floor, but before Harry could scramble for it, Malfoy had grabbed him and thrown him over his shoulder. Malfoy wasn’t much bigger than he was, but he carried him as though he was as big and strong as Hagrid.

Harry was gently rested on the bed and the kick he sent towards Malfoy was stopped by a hand.

“Stop it, Potter, you’ll hurt yourself.” Malfoy sighed. He sat on the bed next to Harry, but he didn’t make a move towards him, which Harry was grateful for. “I’m not going to force you to do anything, I never would. But I need this because I will lose control.”

“What will happen if you lose control?” Harry asked inquisitively. He rearranged himself so he sat on his arse, his legs crossed beneath him.

“I don’t know,” Malfoy’s voice was low and he sounded frightened. “It was lucky that I found you that day. If I couldn’t find you…well, I don’t know what would’ve happened. Nobody has ever seen a rogue Incubus before.”

“Oh.” Harry licked his lips nervously. He wasn’t comfortable around Malfoy. The man had made his school life hell for seven years and he didn’t see why he should just give Malfoy what he wanted because he needed it to survive. But he couldn’t let him suffer either. “I don’t like you, Malfoy, and I don’t know if I ever will. I’m not comfortable doing anything with you. I mean, Merlin, what would you do if you heard that I needed you for the rest of my life?”

“I would’ve laugh and walk away from you,” Malfoy said honestly. His unusual warm grey eyes turned to stare at Harry. “But you’re a better person than I am, Potter. You’re the Golden Boy.”

“Right. I _am_.” Harry closed his eyes for the briefest moment. He just wished that for once, he could be selfish over this. “I can’t touch you. Not yet. But I want this to work in some way. Merlin knows why. You can hump against me or something if you want.”

Malfoy smirked. “You make me sound like a Crup, Potter.”

“Well, you’re basically an animal, right?”

Malfoy shook his head. “Are you that dense?” At the look Harry gave him, Malfoy continued. “Incubi are demons, not animals. We do have animistic traits though.” A pink tongue darted out of his mouth and traced his pale lips. Harry’s eyes followed it. “I just need your touch. And right now, if that means through clothing and rutting against you, it will do.”

Harry nodded shortly and lifted himself up on his knees. He turned so he was resting on all fours and looked over his shoulder at Malfoy. “Let’s get this over with,” he said, spreading his legs so the other man could kneel between them. Malfoy followed Harry’s actions until he had positioned himself behind Harry. His hands gripped his hips as he shuffled forward. Harry bit his lip to stop the cry of surprise escaping his mouth when Malfoy’s crotch rubbed up against his arse. Just mere seconds ago, Malfoy was soft, but now Harry could feel that he was far from that.

The hard bulge brushed his arse every time Malfoy thrust his hips forward. The fingernails on his hips dug into the shirt and Harry felt them leaving an impression on his skin as well. There weren’t many words, just grunts and moans from Malfoy. Harry was even sure there was some from him, but he would never admit it.

“Potter, are you hard?”

Harry sighed and clenched his eyelids shut tightly. He snaked his hand downwards and grasped the bulge in his own pants. He couldn’t deny the attraction that coursed through his body. His blood was rushing south, straight to his cock. “Piss off, Malfoy.”

Malfoy grunted behind him as the bulge pressed against his clothed arse. “I can’t – Potter, I need to get out of these pants. I can’t come when they bloody cut off my circulation.”

Harry wanted to snap back. He wanted to tell Malfoy that it wasn’t his problem that he wore such tight trousers, but instead he grumbled an ‘all right’. Malfoy’s presence behind him was gone for a short moment, but Harry was too busy rubbing his own erection to care about it. He ran his hand over his sensitive clothed cock, before making a quick decision. He reached down to unbutton and unzip his jeans, and slipped his stiff arousal out of his pants. His hand wrapped around it and he pulled at it, groaning at the feeling.

“Shit, Potter, that’s hot. Let me touch you,” Malfoy was practically whining like a dog.

“No,” Harry hissed in return, looking over his shoulder to glare at Malfoy. “Just get yourself off.”

Malfoy didn’t protest. He moved forward and Harry took note that his trousers were halfway down his thighs. His cock was bobbing free, drops of semen forming at the head of it. It almost made Harry whimper with desire. Almost. This was still Malfoy and he wasn’t going to give in, not again.

Malfoy aligned himself behind Harry again and he smirked down at him. It caused Harry to flush and turn his gaze away from the large erection. He wasn’t going to let Malfoy know the sight made his mouth water. 

And then the thrusting started again. This time, Harry could feel the firm erection rubbing persistently against the crease of his clothed arse cheeks. 

He pushed his arse back, the hand on his own cock moving in rhythm with the thrusts. One of Malfoy’s hands pushed his shirt up, touching his bare back, while the other left his hip. Harry tensed as it slithered around his stomach. He was so sure that Malfoy was going to try and touch his cock, but he didn’t. Instead, his hand slipped beneath the front of Harry’s shirt and tenderly caressed his flat stomach.

Harry moaned at the touch and it didn’t take long before his hips were frantically jerking forward and he was coming over the duvet of the bed. Malfoy didn’t last long after him.

“Malfoy, don’t come on me,” Harry growled, but it was too late and he grimaced when he felt the semen coat his back. He was sure the sticky substance was coating his pants and shirt as well.

Malfoy snorted behind him. “You should have given me a little more warning, Potter.”

Harry snapped his teeth together and reached down to push himself back into his pants. He zipped himself up and scampered across the bed, away from the other man. He turned on his heel and glowered at him. “Did you actually think I wanted your come on me, Malfoy?”

Malfoy shrugged and reached down to pull up his trousers. Harry purposely looked away, refusing to even glance at the softening cock. “You know, Potter, pregnant people get horny. You’re going to want me eventually.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Or, you know, I could just go get Justin to shag me.” As soon as it left his mouth, Harry knew it had said the wrong thing. Before he could blink, he was against the wall, Malfoy’s angry, cold grey eyes staring heatedly into his own. His hand was encircling his neck. It wasn’t tight, but it did hold him there.

“I’d watch your words if I were you, Potter. I may not be able to hurt you, but I will have no problem hurting your friend. Can he shag you when I’ve ripped off his cock?”

Harry swallowed and shook his head. Malfoy looked increasingly scary, with his dark silver eyes and scowl. He hadn’t really changed in appearance, except for the eyes, but there was something darker, scarier, about him.

“Then watch what you say to me.” Malfoy released him and took a step back. He huffed and smoothed down his clothes, refusing to look at Harry. “I shall see you at the Hospital Wing, tomorrow. Make an appointment with Madame Pomfrey and owl me the time.” When he finally raised his eyes, they were his normal colour. The scarier version of him had disappeared.

“Whatever, Malfoy,” Harry snapped, regaining his confidence. “Just piss off, you git.”

Malfoy stared at him for a moment, before a smirk formed on his face. “Thanks for getting me off, Potter. It relieved a whole lot of stress.”

Harry picked up the nearest thing he could find, a clock that chimed at that exact moment, and threw it at Malfoy. He dodged it with ease. It hit the wall and with a large bang and smashed into pieces, falling to the floor. Harry crossed his arms and stared at the smug man.

“I had a lovely night too, Potter,” Malfoy barked with laughter as he made it to the exit and out the door before Harry could throw anything else.

Merlin, he hated that man.


	4. Chapter Four

Harry shoved the last of his books into his backpack and sighed in exasperation.

“Was it that bad?” Hermione asked from beside him, passing him some more books.

“Terrible,” Harry responded with a mumble as he took the books from her, shoving them into his bag as well.

“What happened?” Hermione sat on the bed beside his backpack and took it off him as he struggled to fit them in. She pulled a couple out and rearranged them before slipping them back in. Harry bit his lip in frustration.

“What do you want to know, Hermione?” he snapped. “He rutted up against me and came.”

“Oh come on, there must be more to the story than that!” Hermione crossed her arms and huffed. Her bushy hair was much more frazzled than usual and it made Harry suspicious.

“Were you here last night?” He said in an attempt to change the topic. It wasn’t uncommon for her to spend the night in the boys’ dormitory. However, she seemed a little more frazzled than usual. 

“‘Course she was, mate, she was worrying about you.” Ron strode into the room and nodded at Harry. “She was acting like you were a virgin or something.”

“I was not, Ron!” Hermione exclaimed, “I was just worried because Malfoy hasn’t always been nice, you know?”

“Oh, I think we both know that, ‘Mione, but Harry’s a big boy.” Ron patted Harry on the back. “And I don’t think he wants to tell us about his sex life. It’s like me telling him about ours.”

Hermione flushed a bright red and stood. Her arms were still crossed, but she tucked her arms into her armpits tighter. She was becoming more annoyed. “Ron, don’t act as though you haven’t told Harry anything before. You told him about the first night and second.”

“Yeah, but that’s it,” Harry responded, standing up for his best friend. “And I told you about my first and second night with Justin. We’re even.”

Hermione spun around to look at Harry. “This is different, Harry! This is with Malfoy, an Incubus who you’ve fallen pregnant to. I only worry.”

Harry shrugged. “Worry about what, Hermione? I’m already pregnant and yeah, he has a huge dick, but hey, I’ll deal with it when it comes at me.”

“Mate!” Ron’s face grew red and he groaned. He slapped his hands over his face to hide the embarrassment.

Harry laughed. Hermione seemed as though she wanted to ask more, like just how big he was, but she was too flustered to even talk. Instead, she picked up Harry’s backpack and handed it to Ron. “You can’t carry this bag, it’s too heavy.” Harry had to admire her quick change of topic.

“It’s not too heavy, Hermione. I’m not even showing,” Harry complained. He went to reach for the bag, but Hermione slapped his hand.

“Harry, the first stages of pregnancy is the most vital, especially in regards to Malfoy and his need to protect you. So just listen to me, okay?”

Harry knew when not to argue with her.

***

He had visited Madame Pomfrey before breakfast and she had agreed to a 2pm visit. As soon as it was confirmed, he sent an owl to Malfoy as he had requested. He chose a barn owl, one with bright eyes and an even brighter personality. Since Hedwig’s death, Harry hadn’t bought a new owl. He didn’t have the heart too. It felt as though he would have been replacing her and it was too much to bear the thought of. He knew eventually he would have to buy a new one, but while at Hogwarts, he chose to use school owls instead. It made it easier as well, so no one would know that he had sent the letter to his school rival.

Breakfast that morning was a new experience. He had piled his plate with food, which had been rare for him. The people around him noticed as well. Ginny was the first to ask about it.

“I’m just hungry,” Harry replied swiftly, not even rewarding her with a glance.

Seamus then questioned it.

“I need food to grow big and strong.” 

Seamus just laughed at this.

And then Romilda, Dean and even Luna (who was sitting with them as well) had asked about it. Luna had done it in her own way, of course.  
“Did you know that the Crumple-Horned Snorkack choose the females who are bigger than the others?” Luna cocked her head and stared at him with big, round eyes.

“Oh really?” Harry smiled at her as he stuffed another couple of pieces of bacon into his mouth.

“Mhm. The bigger the female is, the better she is to breed with. The females eat more to attract the male. Are you trying to attract a mate, Harry?”

Harry nearly choked on the food in his mouth. Everyone else around them, excluding Hermione and Ron, laughed. Little did Luna know, she was damn close to the truth. He had a ‘mate,’ but he wouldn’t exactly say he was trying to attract him. He was breeding though, so he wondered if that counted. 

When he finally swallowed, he laughed softly. “No, Luna, I’m not trying to attract a mate, I’m just hungry.”

“Mhm,” Luna smiled knowingly at him. She leaned in closer to whisper into his ear so only he could hear her. “Draco Malfoy is staring at you quite intently. Did you know that Incubi have mates too? Much like Crumple-Horned Snorkacks.” She leaned back, smiled gracefully and stood. “Goodbye, everybody.” She gave the people around her a little wave, before she skipped back over to her own table.

“That girl is loony,” Seamus said.

Harry glared at him. “Shut up, Seamus. She’s nicer than you, apparently.” He didn’t know where the sudden anger came from.

“Mate, I didn’t mean any harm,” Seamus held up his hands defensively.

“Yeah, sorry,” Harry shoved more food in his mouth and ignored the happenings around him. He didn’t want to deal with any more questions.

After breakfast was finished, they went to classes. The day went by pretty quickly and before he knew it, it was two o’clock. He walked to the Hospital Wing and as soon as he entered, he was met with the sight of Malfoy.

The man sat in a chair, his legs crossed gracefully and a magazine spread across his lap. A long, thin finger trailed down one of the pages and every so often, he snorted.

“What are you doing, Malfoy?” Harry asked as he entered further.

As though he just noticed him, Malfoy’s gaze shot up to stare at him in surprise. “Potter,” he acknowledged. “How was breakfast?”

“Fine,” he grumbled a reply. Harry walked further into the room and sat on the chair beside Malfoy. He stared at the magazine and frowned. “Is that-” 

Malfoy quickly shut the magazine closed and threw it on a little table beside him. He snorted. “Just some ruddy magazine.”

“About pregnancy?” Harry grinned at him.

Malfoy didn’t look at him. He stared straight at the plain white wall on the opposite side of the room. “Like I said. Just some ruddy magazine, Potter. It was all bollocks anyway.”

“What did it say?” Harry leaned forward on the seat, trying to get Malfoy’s attention. It worked. Malfoy stared at him from the corner of his eye.

“Doesn’t matter.” Malfoy sighed and crossed his arms. “I saw you eating this morning. Good to see you are finally eating properly.”

“Properly?” Harry snorted, “I nearly ate enough for ten people.”

“You are pregnant, Potter, it’s expected.”

Harry frowned. “Everyone else doesn’t know that. They think I’m just being greedy and not to mention, it’s too early for cravings.”

Malfoy finally turned his head to look at him. He raised an eyebrow and smirked. “Does little Potty care what other people think?”

Harry glared fiercely. “Every time I think I might actually end up liking you, Malfoy, you prove me otherwise.” He slammed his back against the chair and crossed his arms.

Malfoy sighed beside him, but he didn’t reply. Harry could feel him glance at him, but he ignored any attempt to get his attention. He didn’t deserve it.

“Mr. Potter.”

Harry looked up as Madame Pomfrey gestured them to come forward. He rose to his feet and walked hurriedly towards her, ignoring Malfoy, who walked beside him. She set him up in a bed and closed the curtains. With a mutter of a silencing spell, she turned to look at him. The corner of her lip quirked, but she didn’t smile. “Mr. Potter, I hear congratulations is in order.”

“Not really,” Harry murmured, but sighed. “Thank you” he said louder. 

Madame Pomfrey nodded swiftly. “I’d like to do a check up on the baby and make sure everything is fine.”

“Madame Pomfrey, can I ask you a question?” Harry wiggled a little so he was sitting up properly, but with a firm shake of her head at his movements, he sighed and pushed himself back down to a lying position.

“Yes, of course.”

“Seeing as Malfoy is an Incubus and I’m a Halfblood, will the baby be Incubus?”

Malfoy opened his mouth, but Harry glared at him. He needed Madame Pomfrey to answer this, not him.

Madame Pomfrey’s eyes flicked between Malfoy and Harry. “Mr. Potter, don’t you think you should be asking your mate this?”

“I – ”

“I do not agree with the ethics of this either, Mr. Potter, but it is nature. Mr. Malfoy is your mate, treat him as such. He can answer any questions you have. If you are to be parents, you need to work together.” She pulled out her wand and with a look at Malfoy (he gave her a nod), she pushed up Harry’s shirt. “But to answer your question, Mr. Malfoy is not fully Incubus. He has Incubus blood which has become a dominant gene inside of him. The baby will have Incubus blood, as the rest of the Pureblood families do. Even Halfbloods have this blood due to the Purebloods breeding with Muggles. So yes, your baby will have Incubus blood. If you are asking me if the gene will become dominant like Mr. Malfoy’s did, the answer would be that it is not likely.”

Harry glanced at Malfoy, who stared back at him. Malfoy didn’t say anything, his face was blank, but his eyes told a whole different story. They burned into Harry.

“Do you want to see your baby?”

“How is that possible? Isn’t it too early?” Harry asked.

Madame Pomfrey smiled. “For Muggle pregnancies, yes. However, because your baby has magic, we can enhance an image. What you will see is your baby’s magical signature. So would you like to see him or her?”  
Both Harry and Malfoy’s head snapped to look at Madame Pomfrey and they nodded. The corner of her lip twitched again as she flicked her wand and muttered a spell. A live image appeared before them. It was black and white and looked exactly as a Muggle’s ultrasound did. They were beeps and the little foetus moved slightly in the image. There wasn’t much to see, the baby didn’t look anything like a baby, but Harry could see what Pomfrey meant about the magical signature. The only colour was that of the baby’s, whose body danced with different colours. It was the magical signature, no doubt about it. The thing he couldn’t work out though, was why there were two of them.

Harry couldn’t help the smile that spread on his face. That was their baby. His and Malfoy’s child. While the idea seemed surreal, now that he saw that the baby was there, he could start believing it.

“That’s our baby, Potter,” Malfoy said from beside him. He was very close to Harry's ear, so much so that Harry could feel Draco's hot breath caress the shell of it. He sounded as astonished as Harry felt.

“Our baby,” Harry repeated in a dazed tone. He reached out towards the image, trying to touch it, but his fingers slipped through it. He pulled them back and smiled. “Our baby.”

“Babies,” Madame Pomfrey actually smiled now.

“Babies?” Harry frowned. “What do you mean?”

She walked around the image and pointed at the small curved form of one of them. “That’s one,” her finger moved to the left, towards the other one, “and that’s the other. You are carrying twins.”

Harry choked. “Oh Merlin,” he rubbed at his eyes, where tears were threatening to form. Damn this. He was not going to cry over just an image.

“Twins?” Malfoy repeated again, “Bollocks.” He paused, still enraptured in the image. “Mother will be very happy at this news. She will be getting two grandchildren.”

“Can you tell the sexes of them?” Harry asked quickly, excitement building up inside of him.

The nurse shook her head. “No, Mr. Potter. It’s even far too early in the Wizarding World for that.”

“Oh.” He tried not to let the disappointment show.

Madame Pomfrey nodded. “Would you like a photograph of this, Mr. Potter? What about you, Mr. Malfoy?”

Before Harry could reply, Malfoy beat him to it. “Yes, I would.” When Harry stared at him in surprise, he continued, “for mother, of course.”

Harry doubted that, but he didn’t comment. He nodded with a smile as well. “As would I.”

“Brilliant.” She swished her wand again. “I shall be back in a few moments.” She slipped out of the curtains, leaving the men to themselves.

Harry couldn’t help but look at Malfoy again. His cheeks were tinged pink and he was staring very intently at the image that remained above them. The coldness in his eyes seemed to have disappeared, leaving only warmth that sent shivers down Harry’s spine. Malfoy must have felt him shiver, because he tore his eyes away from the foetuses to look at him. 

“You okay, Potter?”

Harry nodded. “Malfoy, in your wildest dreams, did you ever expect this to happen? I mean, Harry Potter is carrying your twin children.”

“What do you think?” It wasn’t said rudely. Instead, Malfoy said it quietly, even kindly. It shocked Harry. “No, I didn’t.”

“Were you gay before this?”

Malfoy seemed surprised at the question. He raised an eyebrow, before nodding his head. “Yes, I was a ponce. I have been since I broke up with Pansy.”

“Oh. I didn’t know,” Harry whispered quietly.

“Why would you?” Malfoy snorted in amusement, “We were never friends, Potter. It’s not like I would’ve told you that I liked to shag guys.”

“I know that!” Harry huffed and crossed his arms. “I was just saying that I didn’t know. Although, Ron said you dress like a ponce. I happen to agree.”

Malfoy grunted. “And you don’t dress like a ponce. You dress like a straight man with no fashion sense. I’m not judging you, am I?” Harry raised an eyebrow. Malfoy continued, “And Weasel can’t talk either, he dresses like a poor person. Oh but wait…” He broke off when Harry glared at him. He sighed and waved his hand. “You expect me not to insult your friends and yet, Potter, your friends can insult me.”

Harry never thought about it that way. It was true. Ron insulted Malfoy all the time and he had never thought twice about stopping it. “I’ll talk to him, okay? Will that make it better?”

Malfoy sniffed indignantly, but he nodded none the less. “It would.”

Harry nodded as well. The room was silent, but it was a comfortable silence, a happy one. When Madame Pomfrey finally entered, Harry’s excitement grew. She handed them both a photograph and Harry stared at it in awe. It was perfect. He still couldn’t get it into his head that he was now having twins. Twins!

Madame Pomfrey made the image disappear and pulled Harry’s shirt back down. She told him that they were okay to leave. Before they left, they made another appointment for a couple of weeks. They left at the same time and both of them seemed uncaring by the looks they were receiving. Harry was too enraptured in the moving photograph to care.

“Harry!”

Harry halted and looked up. He smiled as he saw Hermione and Ron running towards him. Malfoy tensed beside him, but didn’t move. When they stopped in front of the men, Hermione nodded at Malfoy before grinning widely at Harry. Ron ignored Malfoy as though he wasn’t even there.

“So?”

Harry grinned just as widely. “We’re having twins!”

Hermione and Ron both looked surprised. He wasn’t sure whether it was because he had told him they were having twins, or if it was because he had said ‘we’ instead of ‘I.’ Harry hadn’t really thought about what he said before it left his mouth. Malfoy glanced at him, and Harry had a feeling it was because he was just as surprised.

“Oh Harry! That’s amazing,” She took a step forward; Harry assumed she was going to hug him, but with a growl from Malfoy, she stopped. “Malfoy, please?”

Malfoy took a deep breath and nodded sharply.

Hermione smiled at him thankfully and pulled Harry into a hug. She laughed into the crook of his neck. Harry swore he could feel tears on his skin. She finally pulled away, giving Ron a chance to slap him on the back.

“Congrats, mate.”

Harry smiled his thanks. It was only then did he truly take notice of Malfoy still standing beside him. He stared at him curiously. “Are you just going to stay here?”

A pink tinge found its way on Malfoy’s cheeks. He shuffled his feet. “Yes.”

“Why?” Harry tried again. He wasn’t annoyed, to his own surprise, just curious.

“Because my instincts are telling me to protect you. I've just seen my children, Potter, everything inside of me is screaming for me to stay by your side and keep you safe.”

Harry raised an eyebrow, but just nodded. “What will your Slytherin friends think?”

Malfoy snorted. “They already know, Potter.”

“How?” Harry exclaimed. He looked at Hermione and Ron, but they both shrugged at him. This was the first time they had heard about it as well.

“Theo and Blaise saw you that morning after we had sex. And I didn’t feel the need to lie to any of my housemates.” Malfoy crossed his arms. He watched the students walk by, some openly staring at them. Malfoy glared at one girl, who squeaked and scampered off.

“What a good father you’ll be, Malfoy,” Ron said sarcastically.

“Ron, be quiet.” Ron looked at Harry in shock. It caused him to sigh. He continued, “I told Malfoy he can’t insult you anymore, it goes both ways, mate.”

Ron opened his mouth as though he was about to retort, but his jaw quickly snapped shut. He glanced at Malfoy and sighed. “Yeah, whatever, as long as Malfoy doesn’t say anything about me or my family.”

“Malfoy has agreed not to, right Malfoy?” Harry stared at him intently.

Malfoy pursed his lips and nodded. “Right, Potter.” He didn’t seem happy to say it, but Harry was grateful he did. When Ron turned his head to look at Hermione, Harry mouthed ‘thank you’ to the blond. Malfoy looked surprised, but nodded anyway.

“Don’t you guys have classes?” Harry asked, grinning at his two best friends. They both nodded.

“Professor McGonagall said you can have the entire day off,” Hermione smiled. Her eyes zeroed in on the picture in Harry’s hand and Harry laughed. He handed it to her.

“Meet our twins.”

Hermione let out a squeal and Harry wondered if she even realized that she did. Hermione had never done such a ‘girly’ thing before. She usually scoffed at the idea of it.

“Oh, Harry, they are beautiful,” Hermione cooed. His eyes filled with tears and she wiped them quickly. “I can’t wait to meet them.”

“Hermione, they are blobs,” Harry laughed, but he understood completely. “I can’t wait to meet them either,” Harry continued truthfully. He glanced at Malfoy, but he was specifically not looking at Harry. He was staring straight ahead. “And Malfoy is excited too.”

“Am I?” Malfoy turned his head and smirked.

“You are. You can’t deny it. That photo isn’t for your mother, it’s for you.” Harry sent him a smirk of his own. He turned to look at Hermione. “He was even reading a pregnancy magazine when I entered the Hospital Wing.”

“That’s poppycock, Potter,” Malfoy scoffed, “it was just sitting there and I happened to pick it up because I was waiting for your late arse.”

“Sure, sure, Malfoy, you keep telling yourself that.”

Hermione glanced between the two of them before she smiled knowingly. She tugged on Ron’s robe sleeve. “Well, we better get to our next class. Why don’t you two go to the Room of Requirement? Talk about things.”

Before Harry could reply, she was already walking past them, dragging a surprised Ron as she went.

“Your friend is a little conspirator,” Malfoy commented, watching them go, “I admire it.” The smirk on his face widened, before he started walking in the direction of the Room of Requirement. Harry followed him.

“She’s a good person. You shouldn’t let her blood status worry you, Malfoy, you’d like her.”

“If you say so, Potter.” He didn’t turn around to face Harry; he just kept walking. Harry didn’t say a word after that, he merely followed. When they finally reached the room and entered, it was nearly exactly as it had been before, except instead of the table, there was a long lounge in front of a fireplace. Malfoy rested on the couch immediately and Harry followed, sitting down on the opposite end.

“So what do you think Malfoy?”

Malfoy grunted. “Are you still talking about Granger?” He laid his arm on the back of the lounge and raised an eyebrow.

“No,” Harry snapped, “I was talking about the fact I’m pregnant with twins, you git.” He didn’t understand how Malfoy could be the person he was in the Hospital Wing, looking at the image of his children, and then dramatically change into an arse.

“Oh.” He shrugged, “More the better, I guess. That’s one less pregnancy for you anyway.”

Harry snorted. He forgot about what Malfoy had said about Incubi and their mates wanting more than five children. He hardly thought that was going to happen between him and Malfoy. Not if they couldn’t feel anything for each other.

“Malfoy, why aren’t you denying what’s happening to your friends?” He asked curiously.

Malfoy stared into the fire for a moment and then turned his head to look at Harry carefully. “Why should I lie? I’m going to be with you until I die; better for them to find out sooner rather than later.”

“But aren’t you worried they’ll judge you? I mean, you knocked up the Boy Who Lived.”

“Potter, you call us bigots, and yet you are the one stereotyping us. Slytherins aren’t what you Gryffindors make us out to be. Yes, we aren’t exactly fans of Mudbloods – ” he ignored the look that Harry gave him, “and Halfbloods and Muggles, but we can be just as loyal as you Gryffindorks. We can be just as understanding.” His eyes stared at Harry heatedly, “we lost everything in that war. Whether we were on your side or his, we still lost everything we owned. Everything we valued.”

Harry swallowed. “Malfoy, your father did horrible things.”

“Yes, Potter,” Malfoy spat angrily, “my father did. I didn’t. Why should we be punished for what our parents did? Didn't I save your life when I didn’t admit that it was you at our manor that day? Yes, my father made a mistake and he’s been punished for it. Isn’t that enough?”

“Not really,” Harry started to feel anger rise in his chest, “he didn’t get punished enough. He nearly got Ginny killed when she was only eleven years old and that was only the beginning.”

“My father had no idea that would happen!” Malfoy was breathing deeply and his eyes darkened. He moved closer to Harry, but Harry didn’t back away. He wasn’t going to back down from Malfoy. “Potter, you were the one who defended my family, you got what you asked for, and you saved us from Azkaban.”

“I didn’t…” Harry broke off. Malfoy was right, he did defend them. Not so much Lucius Malfoy, but he had testified for Mr. Malfoy and her son. He sighed. “Let’s not fight, Malfoy. I’m sorry, okay?”

“I don’t want your apologies, Potter.” Malfoy reached out and before Harry could react, his hand cupped the back of his neck and he pulled him forward. Their lips smashed together, teeth clattering as they accidently knocked. Harry knew he should have pulled away from it, but the feel of Malfoy’s lips on his own was irresistible. He hadn’t kissed Malfoy before, or at least not that he remembered. The kiss was passionate and Harry wasn’t quite sure if it was because of the hatred pouring into it or the desire for each other. Either way, it was a toxic combination.

Malfoy’s tongue pushed into his mouth and Harry didn’t fight it. Instead, he pushed his own tongue against Malfoy’s, fighting for dominance. Hands grappled at his body, tugging him forward until he was on top of Malfoy. His arse was pressed against Malfoy’s crotch and he could feel the hardening erection beneath him. He whined into the kiss, trying to pull away, but Malfoy fought with him to keep their lips connected. When he finally broke the kiss, he moaned when Malfoy thrust his erection against his arse.

“Malfoy…”

Malfoy threw him onto the couch and he couldn’t help the small, surprised yelp that left his mouth. And then Malfoy was on top of him, rubbing his erection against Harry’s own quickly hardening cock. His legs had a mind of their own as they wrapped themselves around Malfoy’s waist, pushing him down harder. His arms wrapped around Malfoy’s neck and the kiss started again, just as passionate as before. 

Harry felt like he was on fire. His own body was a bundle of buzzing sensations, all of which shot straight down to his sensitive cock. They rocked, erections brushing against each other and lips latched on to the other as if for dear life. When they broke off for air again, Malfoy was grunting and groaning and Harry was whinging and moaning.

“Malfoy, fuck. Bollocks.” Harry clenched his eyes shut tightly. He felt his balls tighten and the pressure became unbearable, before finally his spunk was released into his pants. It was so quick, that Harry felt embarrassment flush his face.

Malfoy panted above him and with a final grunt, he, too, came. His forehead fell forward and rested against Harry’s. Harry didn’t say anything, his eyes were still closed and he was listening to Malfoy’s deep breathing carefully.

When he finally opened his eyes, he saw Malfoy had his closed. Harry wondered if he had fallen asleep. “Malfoy?”

Malfoy’s eyes opened and he smirked down at Harry as he pulled his forehead away. His forehead had been sticky with sweat and Harry grimaced when he realized he now had Malfoy’s sweat on his temple.

“You can’t tell me you aren’t attracted to me, Potter,” Malfoy drawled as he moved off of Harry. He sat on the couch and grimaced, most likely due to the quickly cooling semen in his pants. Harry had a similar feeling. He pulled his wand out of his robes and unbuttoned his trousers so he could point it in his pants. He muttered a spell and sighed as the mess disappeared. Malfoy had done the same thing to himself.

“Believe what you want, Malfoy, I just needed to get off,” Harry explained. He was lying, but he didn’t want to admit that he was actually turned on by the kiss.

Malfoy chuckled darkly and rested back against the couch. He smiled and Harry couldn’t help but stare intently at him. He didn’t know if Malfoy realized it or not, but Harry was very slowly starting to see another side of him. He was starting to see more smiles and the spoilt brat was very slowly disappearing. He was still a git, but he was getting better.

Harry picked at the fabric of the couch and sighed. “Thanks, Malfoy.”

“For what, Potter? Getting you off?”

Harry shook his head. He stared at Malfoy with a grin. “I don’t know, just…thanks.” He supposed he was saying thanks for the twins, even though they weren’t here yet, and thanks for actually trying to be civil.

Malfoy stared back, before nodding curtly. “Yeah.”

“How is it?” Harry cocked his head. “How do people treat you?”

Malfoy looked surprised at the question. He frowned and shrugged. “They treat us like we expected them to. They hate us, Potter, we’re Malfoys. They either fear us in private or outwardly detest us.”

“Do they…do they do horrible things?” Harry never really considered what it would be like for Malfoy. “You know what I mean, yeah?”

“If you are asking me if they send us mail that has been hexed, then yes. If you are asking me if they spit on me when I walk down Hogsmeade, then yes. And if you asking me if they refuse to let me buy things from their stores, then yes.” Malfoy looked away from Harry and stared into the fire.

Harry reached out and grasped his shoulder. Malfoy’s gaze flew to him and he raised an eyebrow. “I’m sorry, Malfoy. I went through some stuff when people didn’t believe Voldemort was back, but I never went through that.”

Malfoy cringed at the name, but he pursed his lips, keeping quiet.

Harry continued, “I’m sorry.”

“Stop saying you’re sorry, Potter,” Malfoy snapped angrily and stood from the couch, glaring down at Harry. “I don’t need you to feel sorry for me.”

“You’re right,” Harry replied quickly, standing as well, “I’m not pitying you, Malfoy, the point is that I understand.”

Malfoy took a step forward and grabbed Harry’s upper arm, bringing him closer. “You are challenging me, Potter, that’s what you’re doing. You are unconsciously asking me to prove that I can protect you and our children.”

“I’m not…” Harry paused when he realized that this wasn’t just about Malfoy’s pride. This was about his Incubus instincts as well. “No, I’m not, Malfoy. I think you can protect us just fine. You’ll be a wonderful provider for us.”

Malfoy stared at him suspiciously. He snorted. “Whatever, Potter. Now you’re mocking me?”

“I’m not…”

Malfoy wasn’t listening. He spun on his heel and walked to the door. When he reached it, Harry saw his back tense. It looked as though he was internally struggling with himself. He glanced back at Harry. His jaw was tight and his face portrayed his anger. And as though he had won his inner battle, he snapped his body forward and walked out of the room hastily.

Harry watched him go sadly. They were making progress and now it had just been flushed down the loo.


	5. Chapter Five

It was Saturday and Harry hadn’t seen Malfoy since Thursday. He hadn’t even been at any of the meals, which worried him. He was supposed to meet Malfoy tonight, but he didn’t even know if that was going to happen.

“Have you seen him?” Hermione asked next to him. She looked at the Slytherin table, where Harry was pointedly staring. Zabini and Nott sat at the end of the table where they usually sat, but beside them was a very vacant seat.

“No,” Harry grumbled, shoving food into his mouth. He hated to admit just how much it depressed him. In a matter of two days, he had somehow latched on to Malfoy in some way, creating a connection that he couldn’t understand.

“Why don’t you go ask Nott where he is?” Hermione enquired, watching Harry shove more food in his already overfull mouth. “Nott is quite civil towards other houses. He isn’t your typical Slytherin.”

Harry swallowed the food in his mouth and glared. “Don’t stereotype Slytherins, Hermione; they aren’t what you expect them to be.”

Hermione was surprised by his reply. She glanced at Ron, who shrugged, a frown on his face.

“You okay, mate?” Ron reached for Harry, but he slapped his hand away.

“Do you think I’m okay? The git knocks me up and then doesn’t stick around!” He whispered angrily. He glowered at Ginny, who was watching them carefully. She glared back. “Got a problem, Ginny?” He asked loudly.

“You’re the only one with a problem, Harry. What’s wrong with you lately?” She snapped back.

“Oh really? You’re the one who keeps looking at me.”

“Oh honestly, enough!” Hermione slammed her books on the table, quietening them both. “Harry, this is childish. Go and see them outside the hall. Now!”

Harry knew it wasn’t wise to argue. He stood hurriedly and scurried out of the Great Hall. He wasn’t quite sure where to wait because soon students would be exiting the hall, walking straight to whatever they had planned for the day. He needed somewhere where he could grab Nott and talk in private. In the end, he chose to stand behind a statue. As expected, students started filing out. When he finally saw Nott, he grabbed him by the robe and pulled him behind the stone figure. Nott looked surprised, but when he saw Harry, he raised an eyebrow.

“Potter, are you trying to find a spot to snog me?”

Harry felt his face flush and he glared. “No!”

Nott laughed. “Yeah, yeah, I know you’re Draco’s.”

“I am not,” Harry protested, his glare intensifying. “I don’t belong to anyone, Nott.”

“You tell that to him. He’s already warned us off you; said if we touch you, he’d hex off our bollocks.”

Harry frowned. He looked Nott up and down. He had never really noticed Nott in much detail before. Usually, the Slytherin was quiet and he was never part of Malfoy’s group. He had been told before that Nott never believed in joining groups, so Harry didn’t really have a reason to worry about him. He couldn’t even remember him ever laughing at Malfoy’s insults about Harry.

“Are you friends with Malfoy?”

“I call us acquaintances. Any reason why you ask?” Nott leaned against the wall and crossed his arms. He didn’t really seem to care about the students that hurried past them. A couple of them looked at the two men, but they seemed in too much of a rush to care about what was happening.

“Where is he?” Harry enquired.

“Worried?” Nott smirked.

“No!” Harry exclaimed. He realized that he had said it far too quickly.

Nott chuckled. It wasn’t a mocking laughter, but a genuinely amused one. “You don’t have to lie to me, Potter. If you must know, Draco has been visiting his parents; something about him receiving permission to go home to the Manor to discuss something with his mother and father.”

“Why? When will he be back?” Harry rested a hand on his stomach and sighed. He had actually been looking forward to seeing Malfoy tonight, if only to explain what he had been trying to say the other night. He still hated the git, always would in a certain way, but he felt guilty for how Malfoy took his words.

“I’m not his secret keeper, Potter,” Nott shrugged his shoulders loosely. “I told you we were acquaintances, not friends. We eat meals together; sleep in the same dormitory and the only decent conversation we had was him warning me off you.”

“But he said...”

Nott sighed. He rubbed the side of his face in exasperation. “I know what he told you, he told us about the argument. And what he said was the truth; we are more loyal to each other than students in other houses think. But that doesn’t mean we are best buddies. If Draco was to tell anyone anything about what was happening, it would be Blaise. They share a lot more than Draco and I do. They even shagged a couple of times. Hell, I think Blaise was Draco’s first.”

“What?” The thought of Malfoy with someone else made him physically ill. His stomach churned and he grabbed at it, feeling the illness rising upwards. He felt like he was going to vomit again. “Zabini and Malfoy shagged? When?”

“Potter, I…Potter!” Nott frowned. He reached out to grasp Harry’s shoulder as Harry bent over, groaning in pain. He would have fallen on his knees if Nott hadn’t caught him. His stomach ached and his head spun, even in Nott’s tight hold, he collapsed. He clenched his eyes shut, trying to reduce the aching feeling, but it only grew more intense. So intense, that he blacked out.

***

Harry didn’t open his eyes. He could hear the snarling of harsh words around him. There were arguments, but he wasn’t quite sure what was being said. He felt drowsy and the words were just a small buzzing sound in his ears. The pain had gone, but he felt numb from his chest down. He could wiggle his toes, he realized as he did it, but he couldn’t feel his stomach. He moved his hand, only slightly, and wiggled his fingers. When he could move it properly, he raised a hand to his belly to feel. Before he could reach it though, a hand grabbed his to stop him.

“Potter?”

Harry opened his eyes gradually. His vision was swimming and he couldn’t see without his glasses. Everyone around him was just a blur. Someone must have realized because his glasses was settled on his nose and tucked behind his ears. He blinked, analysing the concerned faces that surrounded him. Malfoy was there, standing very close to him on his right. He must have been the one who put his glasses on his face. 

He glanced around at the other faces. Hermione and Ron stood to his left, their faces full of worry as they stared at him carefully, while Nott and Zabini stood at the end of the bed. They seemed to be keeping their distance. Further away from the bed, Mr Malfoy and McGonagall stood, watching the scene unfold.

“What happened?” Harry asked quietly, choking a little. Malfoy handed him a glass of water and he took it gratefully. He took small sips; he had learnt last time not to drink too much.

“You fainted because someone decided to say something that worried you unnecessarily,” Malfoy growled, glaring at Nott. 

Nott took a step back, not meeting Malfoy’s eyes. Harry didn’t blame him. He had taken on that scary appearance again.

“What do you mean worried me unnecessarily?” He smiled apologetically at Nott. He didn’t mean to get the Slytherin into trouble.

“Nott mentioned my former interactions with Zabini,” Malfoy explained, he still held Harry’s wrist – the one that he had apparently caught when Harry reached for his belly – and his grasp tightened. It wasn’t painful though. “Just because you’re the human mate, that doesn’t mean that you don’t feel some of the feelings I do. If I had heard you were with someone else, I would have attacked them, due to your lack of Incubi instincts, you fainted instead.”

“What Draco means, Mr. Potter, is that because you heard that Draco had former sexual encounters with Mr. Zabini, you’re body reacted the way it did because it thought that Draco was going to leave you. Basically, it shut down.” Mr. Malfoy took a couple of steps forwards and smiled at him.

“If Granger hadn’t been there and if hadn’t been for her fast thinking, your body would have killed our children out of revenge on me.”

“Oh.” Harry peered down at his stomach. It was then that he realized that he was shirtless and some sort of salve was slathered onto his stomach. 

“What is that?” Harry asked. He wanted to reach for it, but Malfoy was still held his wrist tightly.

“It’s a salve that is protecting the babies. Your body is still trying to flush them out and Madame Pomfrey is purifying them again, so your body recognizes them as live foetuses once more.” Hermione reached out, and with a glance to Malfoy (he nodded at her), she grabbed his other hand and squeezed. Her eyes were filled with unshed tears. “Why do you always do this to yourself? You’re a worry, Harry Potter.”

Harry snorted. If anyone knew that, it was him. “But they’re okay, right? I’m not going to kill them?” The thought of what could have happened made him sick.

Malfoy studied him carefully. He looked like he was about to answer, but it was Ron who responded. “They are fine, mate, just fine.”

Harry nodded. Good.

“I’m sorry, Potter,” Nott finally spoke up, grimacing when Malfoy turned to growl at him. “I really didn’t realize you would react that way.”

“Are you a bumbling imbecile?” Malfoy snapped before Harry could respond. “You of all people should have known how he’d react, Nott. You have been taught about Incubi and their mates, just like every other Pureblood.”

“I didn’t – ”

“Stop!” Harry snapped. He rubbed his eyes impatiently and sighed. “It’s done with. It happened, Hermione saved the day and Madame Pomfrey is currently making me better. Theo,” he sent Nott a look, asking for permission. _Theo_ nodded with a smile, “made a mistake. He’s human.”

“You don’t understand, Potter. If you would have lost those babies, I would have lost control and gone on a rampage,” Malfoy tried to explain.

“If you hadn’t stormed off like a petulant child, we wouldn’t have been in that situation, would we, Malfoy?” Harry knew it was harsh and he knew it would have been like a punch to the stomach, but his anger was pointed at no one but the blond standing next to him.

Like he expected, Malfoy sneered, releasing Harry’s hand to take a step back. “If you hadn’t insulted me – ”

“Oh get off it, Malfoy, you always insult me. How is that any different?”

Malfoy’s jaw snapped closed and he clenched it. His hands fell to his side, scrunching up in fists so tightly that they turned a pale white. 

“Draco…” Mrs. Malfoy didn’t take a step forward, but she stared at her son intently. It was almost as if she was trying to send him a wordless message.

His fist unclenched and he reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry.”

“What?” The anger drained from Harry’s body, leaving only shock. There it was again, an apology.

“Don’t make me say it again, Potter,” Malfoy strode to the bed and grabbed each side of Harry’s face. He stared deeply into Harry’s eyes. “You’re right. I shouldn’t have left. I was angry and I took the opportunity to visit my parents. There’s something you need to know…”

Harry felt like he was in a trance. He couldn’t break eye contact with Malfoy, even if he wanted to. Which he didn’t. Malfoy leaned forward and warm lips pressed against his own. It wasn’t a passionate kiss like the last kiss they shared, but a soft, delicate one. His lips were almost only brushing against Harry’s. It didn’t last long either, before he pulled away completely, letting go of Harry’s face.

“Potter, you’re in danger.”

That broke him out of the reverie he was. It was only then did he notice that everyone else had disappeared. They must have walked out of the room when Malfoy kissed him. Harry snorted. “I don’t know if you noticed, Malfoy, but danger is my middle name.”

Malfoy didn’t laugh or smirk like he expected him to. Instead, he grunted angrily. “Potter, you don’t seem to understand. You are no longer thinking about yourself, you have children to take care of as well: my children.”

Harry frowned. He nodded, Malfoy had a point. “How?”

“Death Eaters,” Malfoy answered immediately. He crossed his arms. “Mother has heard about plans being made in your capture and murder.”

“Malfoy, any Death Eaters that are still on the run aren’t going to try and touch me. Not when the Aurors and everyone else are keeping an eye out for them,” Harry argued. 

Malfoy leant over the bed, digging his knuckles in the soft mattress. His nostrils flared. “Don’t be stupid, Potter!”

Harry sighed. He didn’t want to argue with Malfoy, especially not today. “Okay, Malfoy, I’ll be careful.”

“Not just careful, Potter, I don’t want you going to Hogsmeade without me, yeah? I don’t want you to leave Hogwarts without me. I want to keep you safe and I want to keep my children safe. They are the heirs of the Malfoy line.”

“Malfoy, woah!” Harry held up his hands to stop the other man from talking. He shook his head. “I feel like you should be adding a collar and chain to my neck or something. I’m not going to bloody stand around and let you treat me like a possession.” 

Malfoy pushed himself off his knuckles and crossed his arms again. He sniffed indignantly. “Potter, you don’t seem to understand the situation here. Don’t you feel the pull? You can’t fight it forever, Potter, and as an Incubus’ mate, you will belong to me, in every way possible.”

“Oh piss off, Malfoy.”

Then Malfoy was there again, his face looming over Harry’s. He leaned closer, as though he was going to kiss him, but stopped. “Don’t be an imbecile, Potter.”

“Malfoy, I’d like you to leave now.”

Malfoy didn’t protest. He snorted and spun on his heel, striding straight out of the room.

***

By the time he was allowed to leave the hospital wing yet again, it was nightfall. Hermione and Ron had offered to meet him there, but he refused. He didn’t need charity and even though he knew his friends wanted to help, he had enough to feeling useless for one day. As soon as he walked out the wing though, he halted. Malfoy was leaning against the wall, an apple in his hand. His teeth punctured the green fruit, crunching down on tender skin of it. His eyes were closed as though he was in pure ecstasy at just the taste of it. Harry had never seen anyone eat an apple with such relish.

He swallowed and struggled to find words. They finally found their way to his throat. “Why are you here?”

Malfoy opened his eyes, chewing quietly as he peered at Harry. “It’s our date night.”

“Malfoy, I don’t exactly call you rutting against me a date night,” Harry snapped. He strode over to the blond and snatched the apple off him. He was going to throw it, but at the sudden rumble of his stomach, he hesitated. Instead, he brought it to his own mouth. Unfortunately, he wasn’t as elegant as Malfoy eating an apple and the juices slid down his chin. When he pulled the apple away from his mouth, he sighed. As he reached for it, a hand grabbed his. 

Malfoy guided his hand away from his face and leaned forward. Harry jerked back a little, but he couldn’t move far. A tongue darted out to lick a trail of juice that ran down Harry’s chin. Harry didn’t move he just waited patiently. Another two trails of juice were licked clean, before Malfoy finally pulled back and smirked at Harry.

“There, much better. Really, Potter, weren’t you taught how to eat properly? I think some lessons are in order,” Malfoy drawled. His eyes darkened as they stared down at Harry. “But to answer your question, we are going on a date to Hogsmeade.”

Harry was jolted at the words. “What?”

“Do listen, Potter.” Malfoy glanced up and down his body and he sighed. “We are going to have to buy you a whole new wardrobe: clothes that not only fit, but are fashionable enough to go into public with. My family has a private tailor who will have to measure and make you some clothes, I think. Of course, you will need bigger ones, for when you start showing. Which is soon, I suspect. With twins, you will be larger than someone carrying one child.”

Harry grunted uncaringly. He liked his clothes and he certainly didn’t need reminding that he was going to get fat soon. “What did you say about the date, Malfoy?”

Malfoy’s smirk widened. “I said that I’m taking you to Hogsmeade. There is this very nice restaurant, fancy.”

“Why?” Harry asked curiously. “I didn’t think you’d ever actually ask me out. I mean, all you needed was a sexual release, right?”

“Yes, Potter, by the end of the night I will need to have come. But that doesn’t mean we can’t go out for a dinner, right?” Malfoy raised an eyebrow.

It made Harry suspicious. “Malfoy…”

“Fine. Mother says I’m not trying hard enough. She suggested that I take you out to dinner.” He shrugged.

Harry growled, pushing at Malfoy’s chest, causing him to stumble back a few steps. “Oh please, Malfoy, don’t do this on my account. Let’s just we pretend we went out. So rut against me or whatever you have to do so I can go back to my bloody bed and sleep.”

Malfoy sneered. “Potter, stop acting childish.”

Harry clenched his jaw. He wasn’t going to stand around to listen to anything he had to say. As he started to walk past Malfoy, he was stopped by a firm grip on his arm.

“Potter, stop. Okay. I lied. I want to take you out to dinner.”

Harry risked a glance at Malfoy. He actually sounded genuine.

“Are you serious?” He raised an eyebrow.

“No, I’m Draco Malfoy.” Malfoy smirked, but at the sadness that contorted on Harry’s face, the smirk disappeared, “Potter, I didn’t – ”

“Don’t!” Harry held up his hand to stop him from talking any more. He sighed and nodded, “Are we allowed to leave?”

Malfoy swallowed and nodded. “I’ve already asked for permission. How about you go get dressed and I’ll meet you in front of the doors of the Great Hall?”

Harry didn’t say much else. He shook his arm out of Malfoy’s hold and walked past him. If he had a choice, he wouldn’t have gone up to the common room at all. Some people glanced at him. There was whispering and Harry knew instantly that they knew he had fainted. Some of the younger years looked at him in sympathy and it annoyed him. He had to bite his lip to stop himself from snapping at them. His emotions were in chaos at the moment and he really didn’t want to give more people a reason to hate him.

“Harry?” A tiny voice said behind him.

Harry halted and closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, he turned on his heel to look at Ginny.

“I’m sorry, Harry. I was rude to you.”

Harry shook his head. He smiled softly at her. “No, I had no reason to snap at you. I’m the one that should be sorry. I’m just moody lately, I guess. I’ve been sick.”

Ginny brushed some of her red hair out of her eyes and she smiled back at him. “Is that why you were in the Hospital Wing?”

“Yeah, something like that.” He looked down at his feet for a moment, before he stared up at her again. It had been awkward since their break up and he hated it. “Ginny, our break up…”

“No, you don’t have to explain, Harry.” Ginny reached out to rub his forearm comfortingly. “It just happens, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Harry glanced around the room. There were various eyes on him, including Hermione and Ron, who were smiling at both Ginny and Harry. “Listen, I’ve got to go. But we will talk later, okay?”

Ginny nodded and strode over to the sofa where she sat beside her brother. Harry smiled at his best friends, before continuing up the stairs and to his dorm room. He knew that his friends were aware that he had to go and see Malfoy, so they didn’t bother him while he went upstairs to get ready. 

Much to Harry’s surprise though, as soon as he made it to his trunk and opened it, there was a package sitting inside. It was wrapped in simple brown paper. He frowned down at it and pulled out his wand. A simple hex detector told him that it was clean. He grabbed it and threw it on the soft bed. Harry opened the package and he couldn’t help but gasp at the sight of the contents.

The package contained a simple pair of black trousers and a plain white dress shirt. With them was a double-breasted black blazer with gold buttons and a red snake embroidered in the right side of it. A simple black belt was curled on top of the clothes. As Harry took the clothes out, he found black dress shoes on the bottom of the package. He could tell from the mere touch of the garments that they were made out of expensive materials. No note came with them, but Harry had an idea who they were from.

He picked up the shirt and ran the linen through his fingers. It was soft to touch. Smiling, Harry grabbed the clothes and made his way to the bathroom. After having a quick shower, he put on the clothes that Malfoy had gifted him and looked in the mirror. For once in his life, he actually looked stylish. Not only did the clothes fit, but the garments were perfect eveningwear. He had to commend Malfoy on his guessing when it came to the sizes he needed.

Harry attempted to tame his hair, but as usual, it refused to stay flat. He had even tried spells that Hermione had suggested, but his messy mane wasn’t going to stay tamed, so he just gave up. He didn’t know why it even mattered. Even though he wouldn’t admit it to himself, Harry wanted to look good. He wanted to walk up to Malfoy and impress him so much, that the Slytherin would be speechless.

Harry took a deep breath and ran his palms over his stomach. He nodded at himself, before taking to the stairs for the descending walk. As soon as he entered the common room, the loud chattering slowly quietened. Wide eyes stared at Harry and he couldn’t help but shuffle nervously. Even Hermione and Ron seemed to be in the state of shock at his attire. Hermione was the first one to smile and raise herself to her feet. She strode over to Harry and threw her arms around him, bringing him against her body.

“You look good, Harry,” she whispered very quietly.

“Thanks,” Harry replied, burrowing his head into her bushy hair to avoid seeing the stares,”Courtesy of Malfoy.”

“Don’t you think you should start calling him Draco?” Hermione suggested softly, “Why such special clothes?”

“He doesn’t deserve it yet,” Harry responded, “He asked me out on a date. He’s taking me out to dinner.”

“What?” Hermione threw herself back enough so she could stare at Harry’s face. “He did?” Excitement laced her voice and she bounced on the heels of her feet. When the stares around them intensified and she took note of it, she blushed. Hermione cleared her throat loudly and sent pointed looks at the students in the common room. They took the hint and went back to whatever they were doing before Harry had walked down the stairs. They knew she could still take points off them after all, even though she was no longer considered a Prefect.

“Yeah, he did,” Harry whispered.

“Who did what?” Ron sidled up next to Hermione and grinned at his girlfriend. “You’re brilliant, Hermione, scary as ever.” He pressed a kiss to her cheek. Her blush deepened and she huffed at her boyfriend’s words.

“Draco asked Harry on a proper date. Dinner and everything,” Hermione answered quickly, her voice low so nobody could hear them.

“Bloody hell, did you drive him bonkers, mate?” Ron laughed when Hermione slapped him lightly on the arm.

Harry chuckled at Ron’s words and shook his head. “I don’t know. He surprised me, too. But don’t forget that he still wants to frot against me.”

Hermione crossed her arms. “You know, Harry, I think it’s more than him wanting to have a sexual release with you. He obviously had to have strong feelings for you to have his Incubus blood recognize you as a mate. And if he hated you, would he really want to _frot_ against you?”

Harry glanced at Ron and they both burst into laughter. They had never heard Hermione use the word frot and the way it came out of her mouth – it was as if she had something sour in her mouth – was amusing to listen to. That and just the thought of Malfoy feeling something for Harry was just as humorous.

“Hermione, I know you girls work on all your romance and that bollocks, but men are different. We just want a shag,” Ron explained through bouts of laughter.

“Oh really?” Hermione glared at Ron. “And what do you want, Ronald?”

As though he just realized what he said, Ron’s face paled and his laughter ceased. He stuttered, reaching out for Hermione, but she pulled back sharply and continued to glare at him. Harry knew that this was the perfect moment to leave.

“Bye guys,” he said with a wave before power walking out the common room. He just knew that Hermione was going to explode and he didn’t want to be around for that to happen.

He strode down the various staircases, avoiding the ones that looked as though they were ready to move. As he walked down one set of stairs, he turned the corner of a hallway and had to stop suddenly so he wouldn’t run into another person. When he looked up to apologize for their near collision, he frowned at the other man. Justin.

“Harry?” Justin grinned widely. “I haven’t seen you in forever.”

Harry wanted to point out that it had only been about two weeks. They had seen each other, even passed each other in the hallways, but all that was exchanged was a nod of the head. Harry didn’t have much to say to Justin and he was mostly trying to avoid him on purpose. He could only imagine what would happen if Malfoy saw them in close range of each other. He didn’t want to piss the other man off. He didn’t know what Malfoy could do, exactly, but he didn’t want to risk it. He had a feeling that Justin was attached to his hands and didn’t want them ripped off.

“Justin, I’m late, we’ll talk later okay?” Harry said hurriedly, sidestepping the other man.

Justin grabbed his upper arm to stop him from moving. “Harry? Have I done something wrong?”

Justin was a good person; there was no doubt about it. He wouldn’t hurt a fly and now that all of this was happening with Malfoy, he felt bad for ever leading Justin on. 

“No,” Harry sighed, “Justin, I really have to go.”

He tugged his arm out of Justin’s hold and continued walking. Justin chased after him until he was striding beside him.

“Is it because you’re seeing someone else? Is that where you were that night Hermione thought you were in my bed?” Justin continued as though he had not just been dismissed by Harry.

“Justin, stop! I haven’t got time to talk about this right now. I’m running late,” Harry stressed, sending Justin a piercing stare.

“Just bloody tell me, Harry, don’t leave me hanging!” It was the first time Harry had ever heard Justin raise his voice in anger.

Harry stopped walking and turned to face the Hufflepuff. His jaw and fists were both clenched angrily as he stared at Harry.

“Yes,” Harry admitted quietly, “I am seeing someone else.”

Justin seemed shocked that he finally admitted it. His fists slackened and he took a step back. His eyes were wide as he gaped at Harry. His gaze betrayed his hurt and Harry felt his heart ache at the thought of hurting Justin’s feelings. While Harry might not have felt something for Justin in the romantic way, he was still a good person, a person that Harry liked talking to.

“Justin…” Harry tried to think of a way to explain the whole situation.

“Don’t!” Justin shook his head. “I’m sorry for chasing you.” He sent Harry a small smile before spinning on his heel and striding away from him.

Harry didn’t chase him, he couldn’t bring himself too. Justin deserved to know the truth and there was no way of softening the blow. There was nothing Harry could do now. He sighed, knowing that he had to keep moving. Malfoy wouldn’t be happy if he was much later than he already was. He started walking towards the Great Hall once more.

When he finally made it there, Malfoy was waiting, with his back against the wall and his arms crossed.

“About time, Potter,” Malfoy was gazing at his fingernails and when he finally looked up, the smirk on his face dropped, only to be replaced by a surprise ‘o’ shape on his lips. His stare started at Harry’s feet, which was encased in the black dress shoes, and made its way up until it reached Harry’s own stare. “Bloody hell.”

“Does it suit me?” Harry asked, holding out his arms and walking in a circle on the spot.

“Yes,” Malfoy’s voice sounded strangled, “it does.”

“You’re good with your fashion, Malfoy,” Harry admitted quietly, running a hand through his hair.

Malfoy took a moment to just stare at Harry, before he seemed to jolt back to reality. His smirk returned to his face. “Of course I am, Potter, I am a Malfoy after all. We only expect the best, which includes our mate’s appearance.”

“Aw, you think I look beautiful, Malfoy?” Harry teased, a smirk of his own adorning his face.

Malfoy grunted, “Whatever makes you sleep at night.”

Harry’s smirk transformed into a smile. He stared at Malfoy carefully, watching as his pale cheeks tinged with a light pink. His lips were pursed and he looked over Harry’s shoulder as though he didn’t want to look at the man in front of him. He appeared to be internally struggling with himself. 

“Malfoy?”

Malfoy sighed dramatically. “Potter, I want to throw you over my shoulder and carry you back to my bed and shag you senseless.”

The sudden outburst shocked Harry. His eyes widened. “Malfoy?” This time, it was his voice that sounded strangled.

Malfoy chuckled darkly and held out his arm, gesturing towards the doors that led out onto Hogwarts grounds. “Shall we? There is a carriage waiting to take us to Hogsmeade.”

Harry glanced down at his blazer and ran his fingers over the red snake nervously. Other than with Cho, he hadn’t even been on a real date. It was strange to think that this date was going to be with Malfoy. A sick feeling settled in his stomach and he groaned, clutching it through his clothes.

Malfoy didn’t answer. He took a step forward and grabbed Harry’s arm to hold him steady as he swayed. “Are you okay?” He asked worriedly.

“Yeah,” Harry replied quietly, “just nervous, I guess.”

“We don’t have to go if you don’t want to…” Malfoy’s grey eyes pierced into Harry.

“No!” Harry exclaimed quickly, “I want to go. Please.”

Malfoy looked surprised at the sudden exclamation, but he nodded. He looked at Harry’s bare hands and frowned. “Where are your gloves?”

“I...” Harry had forgotten all about getting his gloves. He was in such shock about the new clothes, he hadn’t thought about grabbing some gloves before he exited the common room. “I forgot them.”

Malfoy raised an eyebrow and the incoming insult that Harry expected didn’t come. Instead, he pulled out two sickles from his robe’s pocket and transfigured them into two red gloves. He handed them to Harry. “Put them on, we don’t want your hand to be cold.”

Harry did as he was told to do. As he slipped them on, he noted how warm they were. “Thanks, Malfoy.” 

Malfoy nodded in acknowledgement. He reached out and touched the red snake. It moved slightly on the blazer, hissing. “I had a red snake embroidered on the blazer on purpose. It’s a sign of our union of sorts: Red in sign of a Gryffindor and a snake, in sign of a Slytherin.”

Harry cocked his head in astonishment. He didn’t know that the embroidery meant anything. He glanced down at the snake as it hissed “a joined union” over and over again.

“ _Yes, a joined union,_ ” Harry spoke in reply to it. When he raised his eyes to look at Malfoy, the pink tinge was back on his cheeks. “You alright there, Malfoy?”

“I...” Malfoy cleared his throat.

“It doesn’t frighten you when I speak in Parseltongue, does it?” Harry looked at him in worry.

“No, no of course not.” Malfoy shrugged his shoulders, “It’s hot, actually.”

“Oh,” Harry felt his face flush. He laughed lightly, “Never heard that one before.”

The Slytherin nodded and acknowledged towards the door again. “Shall we?”


	6. Chapter Six

The carriage ride was filled with silence. As soon as they arrived at Hogsmeade, Malfoy lead Harry through the small town. He saw familiar shops and restaurants and he wondered if Malfoy was going to take him to one of those, but he didn’t stop.

“Where are we going?” Harry asked as they missed yet another familiar restaurant.

“We’re not that far away from it now,” Malfoy said. He didn’t really answer Harry’s question. When he saw the look Harry was giving him, he continued, “It’s a restaurant that my parents used to take me to. One of the finest in Wizard Britain. It’s old style, so have manners, yeah Potter?”

“Old style?” Harry frowned. He had a feeling that he knew what that meant, “Does that mean they don’t allow Muggleborns in or something?”

Malfoy didn’t bother to look at him as he replied, “Yes, that’s right. But they are slowly warming to the idea of Halfbloods.”

“Malfoy!” Harry tugged at Malfoy’s arm, causing him to stop walking abruptly. Malfoy looked at him in surprise and raised an eyebrow. Harry continued, “I don’t want to go there.”

“Potter, it has the finest food a wizard or witch could ask for,” Malfoy argued, tugging at his arm. Harry didn’t let go.

“Please, Malfoy,” Harry swallowed, “Anywhere but there.”

“Why, Potter? I told you that they accept Halfbloods.” Malfoy looked at him in exasperation.

“I want to enjoy myself with you tonight and I won’t like it there,” Harry said truthfully. His voice was low as wizards walked past them. Some glanced at them, but many of them seemed uncaring about the two teenage males standing in the side of the path.

Malfoy looked at Harry in astonishment. “What?”

“Please? Anywhere but there.”

Malfoy sighed and reluctantly nodded. “Where would you like to go, Potter?”

“The Three Broomsticks,” Harry answered immediately.

The other man looked disgusted at the mention of The Three Broomsticks. He recoiled back and his face scrunched with disgust. “Please tell me you are joking with me, Potter. The Three Broomsticks? I hardly call that a restaurant.”

Harry licked his lips and quickly thought of a way to convince him. Finally coming up with an idea, he smiled at Malfoy. He grabbed his hand and guided it to his belly. Harry pouted at Malfoy and pointedly glanced down at the hand on his belly before staring at the Slytherin once more. “But your babies want to eat there.”

Malfoy grunted, “Is this your way of convincing me?” He didn’t remove his hand though. It was quite the contrary. He moved closer and pressed his hand as close as he could to the clothed stomach.

“Yes,” Harry said quietly. He almost preened at the feel of Malfoy’s body. They were standing so close, that Harry wondered if the people around them thought they were about to kiss. Not that Harry was immune to the idea. He actually thought it was a brilliant thought. Pressing in closer, he raised his hand to grab the back of Malfoy’s head. He pulled him closer and lifted up his face so he could press his cold lips against the ones hovering above his own.

Malfoy was surprised by the kiss, but returned the kiss none the less. His arms wrapped around Harry’s waist, pulling the smaller man flushed against his own body. Harry’s hands entangled in Malfoy’s hair, mussing up the neat style it was set in. Malfoy didn’t seem to care, because he only kissed Harry harder.

Harry moaned into his mouth, before the need for air was so great, he had to break it. He panted. “Merlin, Malfoy.”

“I get that a lot,” Malfoy said in a cocky tone.

Harry’s hands were still entangled in Malfoy’s hair and when he let go of the blond locks, he grimaced at the sight of the very messy hair. Malfoy must have seen the look because he reached up and felt his hair.

He growled, “Bloody hell, Potter.”

“Sorry?” Harry said unapologetically. He laughed loudly and took a step back from the other man.

Malfoy just snorted. Harry distinctively heard him mutter, “Bloody Potter, messing up my hair,” before he pulled out his wand from his robes. He pointed the tip of it at his head and murmured a spell. His hair instantly righted itself into its former position.

“We are agreed then? The Three Broomsticks?” Harry asked hopefully. He bounced on the tip of his toes, grinning like an idiot.

Malfoy stared incredulously, before he sighed and said, “If we must.”

“Brilliant,” Harry clapped his hands together. He didn’t think twice as he slipped his gloved hand in Malfoy’s and pulled him along the dusty road. Malfoy didn’t protest, he just let Harry drag him through the small crowd until they reached the Three Broomsticks. The cosy little inn was packed with people as usual, but unlike the trips to Hogsmeade for Hogwarts, it wasn’t full of students. The adults seemed to keep to themselves, not even paying attention as Harry and Malfoy entered the warm cottage-like inn. Harry smiled in delight at his favourite place to drink and eat and walked over to a spare table, dragging Malfoy along as he went.

He sat down on one of the chairs and shivered.

“Are you cold? I can give you my robe if you want?” Malfoy offered. When Harry looked at him in disbelief, he sneered, “don’t want you getting sick. You are the only one who can have my children now, after all?”

“Mhm. Sure, Malfoy,” Harry laughed. He had grown to know Malfoy more in the last six days and slowly, the man was softening up to Harry, no matter how much he wanted to fight it. Harry couldn’t really talk either; he had been softening up just as much to the giant git.

A waitress pranced over to their table. She smiled at Harry, before giving Malfoy a different sort of a smile: a seductive one. She even had the nerve to wink. “Can I get you anything, lovelies?”

Harry snorted. Whore. “Yeah, get me a soda with ice,” he snapped.

Malfoy took note of the anger laced in Harry’s voice. He smirked at him, before glancing up at the waitress. Harry hated to admit it, but the waitress had nice tits on her. They were big and round and dare he say it, looked firm. If he had been straight, he would have flirted with her, that’s for sure. Although right now, with her casting Malfoy a lowered eyelash stare, Harry wanted nothing more than to hex her into oblivion.

“And you, my pretty little waitress,” Malfoy began, earning himself a giggle from the blond bimbo, “can get me mulled mead. And while you are at it, make sure my lover here gets lots of ice. I love it when his mouth is freezing when it’s sucking on my cock.”

The waitress let out a meep of surprise. Her eyes flashed to Harry and back to Malfoy before she nodded hastily and skittered off. Harry barked with laughter, not quite believing what Malfoy had just said to her. He held his stomach, which ached as he only laughed louder. Malfoy snickered.

“Do you always do that?” Harry asked, when he could breathe enough to talk.

“No.” Malfoy started to reach for Harry’s hand that rested on the table, before he stopped as though he became aware of what he was doing. Before he could pull his hand away, Harry’s shot out and grabbed it. He pressed his hand into Malfoy’s and entwined their fingers. Harry didn’t know what possessed him, but he wanted to feel Malfoy’s hand in his own.

Malfoy stared down at their linked hands. He opened his mouth, but only snapped it closed instantly.

“Thank you, git,” Harry said with a smile.

Malfoy raised an eyebrow, “for what?”

“Actually taking me out,” Harry shrugged his shoulders. He stared at the waitress as she started to walk back over to them. She was hovering two drinks in front of her. When she reached them, she set both drinks down. She didn’t stay around for long this time.

“You’re welcome, Potter,” Malfoy replied easily. He picked up his glass of mead and drank some of it.

Harry chuckled lightly and looked at his soda. It had a lot more ice in there then a usual soda would, but he didn’t mind. He liked the ice. He grabbed his own glass and took a deep gulp of it. The coldness of the drink sent shivers down his spine.

“I don’t know why you wanted ice in your drink.” Malfoy shook his head in exasperation. His thumb – of the hand that was still entwined with Harry’s – caressed Harry’s palm. He didn’t seem to notice that he was doing it as he spoke, “you’ll get a chill and then where would we be, you knucklehead?”

Harry rolled his eyes, but didn’t comment on it. He just took another large sip of his drink. 

“Potter, mother is having a Valentines ball net year,” Malfoy continued to talk, “she has one every year, really, and she starts quite early. Next year, it’s a masquerade ball and I’ve been asked to tell you that you have been cordially invited.”

Harry nearly choked on his drink. He set the glass down and frowned at Malfoy. He liked Mrs. Malfoy, but a ball was something that he wasn’t exactly thrilled about attending. Just thinking about the Yule Ball in their fourth year made him shudder. He could remember seeing Malfoy there; dancing as though he was a professional. Harry, on the other hand, was terrible at dancing. He tripped over his own feet which only resulted in embarrassment on his behalf. 

“Malfoy, thank your mother for her offer, however –”

“Potter, I wouldn’t say no if I was you. My mother doesn’t take no for an answer,” Malfoy interrupted with a smirk. “You’ll do fine.”

“Have you seen my dancing?” Harry exclaimed, feeling his cheeks flush.

Malfoy’s thumb caressed his palm again, this time in a reassuring manner. “Come on, Potter, you can’t be that bad. Sure, you have two left feet,” Harry glared at him, “but nothing that can hurt when I’m leading you.” Malfoy waved his hand dismissingly, “it’s not like anyone else will be dancing with you.”

“But how would you know it was me if it’s a masquerade ball, Malfoy?” Harry questioned, crossing his arms.

“Potter, I always know you when I see you,” Malfoy answered easily. At Harry’s raised eyebrow, he realized what he said and stuttered uncharacteristically, “I mean, I just meant...” He looked stricken.

Harry laughed and decided to save Malfoy from his stuttering attack. “So that tells me you not only know me that well that you’d know it was me in a mask, but when Scabior and Greyback took us to the manor, you knew it was me,” his voice softened at the last part, “you didn’t give me up. Why? It could have saved your family a lot of trouble.”

“Yes,” Malfoy said quietly, “but why would I give up our last hope of salvation? Or freedom?” At Harry’s piercing stare, he continued, “and I could never have given you up. Not to him.”

“To anyone?” The question slipped out of his mouth easily.

“No. To no one.” Malfoy met Harry’s stare. Through his eyes, Harry could tell a lot about Malfoy. The pain he had felt and the desperation for an ending to the struggle, and a love. It wasn’t just a love for his family, but a love for Harry.

Harry was the first to break the trance. He grabbed his glass and shakily raised it to his lips, swallowing the soda. It felt cold as it slid down his throat. He set it back down and nodded. “Okay, I’ll go.”

Malfoy seemed satisfied. He nodded his thanks.

“So tell me more about Incubi,” Harry thought it was the perfect topic to talk about, “When you get angry, do you like, change form or something?”

Malfoy snorted back a laugh. “You mean like an angry bird?” At Harry’s tentative nod, he continued, “I’m not a full blooded Veela, Potter. No, I don’t change at all. The Incubus blood makes me protective of you and jealous of others who touch you, but it doesn’t affect my appearance in any way. I have an increase in physical strength and the whole bonding thing, but that’s about it.”

“But your eyes,” Harry pointed at his grey eyes, “when you get angry, they darken.”

“Really?” Malfoy was surprised by this. “I didn’t know. Maybe it’s just a hereditary thing?”

Harry shook his head. “Your eyes have darkened like that before. They go really dark, almost turns black. Bloody scary if you ask me.”

“Hm,” Malfoy rested his elbow on the table and his chin on his palm. He looked thoughtful as he contemplated Harry. “Maybe. I’ll have to look into that.”

Harry nodded. He thought back to the anger he saw in Malfoy’s eyes when he looked at Theo and a question nagged at him. “Malfoy, did you really shag Zabini?”

Malfoy snorted and released his chin to wave his hand impatiently, “doesn’t really matter, does it? Don’t let it worry you.”

“I’m just curious. You know about Justin.”

Malfoy growled at the name. He sighed and nodded. “Yeah, I shagged him. Only once or twice. He wasn’t that great in the sack. He screamed like a banshee.”

Harry laughed. “Really?” Images popped up into his head and he couldn’t help but slap a hand over his face at the thought of Zabini, on his back, screaming just as Malfoy had described. “That’s terrible.”

Malfoy laughed with him. 

The waitress pranced back over to them, a smile on her face this time. She had a notepad and a Quick Quotes Quill that stood to attention beside it. “So, can I get you boys anything to eat?”

Harry stared at her, watching as her eyes darted to Draco every so often. She tried to act as though she wasn’t, but Harry saw the subtle glances.

“We’ll have sausages. Very big sausages. We like big sausages,” Harry said firmly, making sure she was looking at him as he glanced at Malfoy.

Malfoy choked on his drink, which he was sipping. He thumped his chest as a coughing fit started. The coughing fit turned into laughed. “Oh Merlin!”

The waitress blushed an ugly red. She stuttered, muttering about sausages and mash and Harry agreed with a smirk. Malfoy ordered the same, still laughing loudly as she once again scampered off.

“And you think I’m bad,” Malfoy’s whole body shook. “Poor girl will have nightmares.”

“She deserves it,” Harry muttered, before recognising the jealousy that burned in his stomach. He sighed. He wasn’t meant to feel this way about Malfoy and yet he could not deny that it was there, tormenting him. 

“Jealous, Potter?” Malfoy teased. His grey eyes were almost twinkling in mirth.

“Piss off, Malfoy,” Harry murmured, but he didn’t deny it. He couldn’t.

“Right, any more questions about Incubi then?” Malfoy grabbed his half-filled glass and took another very big swig from it. It made Harry lick his lips. Merlin, what he would do for mead or even a firewhiskey right now; however, he wasn’t stupid and he wasn’t going to risk his children.

“Mating seasons or any of that codswallop?” Harry shrugged his shoulders.

Malfoy snorted. “Like I said before, Potter, we aren’t animals. No, there is no mating season.”

“You have a mating call,” Harry pointed out. He glanced around the room.

“It’s not really a mating call. I mean, yeah, it’s a call. I...” Malfoy pinched the bridge of his nose, “fine, it’s a mating call. But it’s different. You know how in legends, the Incubi visit Muggles in their dreams and shag and impregnate the Muggle?”

Harry nodded attentively. He didn’t like mythology that much, but he knew the basics of the Incubi legend.

“It’s sort of like that. When my Incubi blood recognized you as my mate, there was an immediate connection. If you weren’t attracted to me at all, the connection wouldn’t have worked. But you were interested in me in some way, Potter, and my body and instincts reacted to that. I called out to you, which put you in a dreamlike state. This is probably where all this Muggle dream nonsense came from. A mate doesn’t know what he’s doing during that time and he can’t control his actions, which is the same for the Incubus. Some mates remember that night like it was a dream the next day, some don’t. You, of course, are in the latter. So basically, during this dream like state, the Incubus and his mate shag and if the Incubus correctly does what his instincts tell him to, his mate usually ends up impregnated.”

“But why knock up his mate?” Harry leaned forward on the table. He glanced down at their entwined hands. Neither of them seemed to want to move them any time soon.

“To claim him. To let everyone know that the Incubus has staked his claim with his sperm,” Malfoy smirked at this.

“Oh,” Harry snorted. “That is such a typical Malfoy thing to do. So why are you even surprised your Incubus blood was dominant?”

Malfoy chuckled. “Potter, listen, it’s rare to happen, but it’s a privilege if it does happen in your family. Incubi are considered powerful humans. Both you and I are bloody fortunate.”

Harry nodded. He wasn’t quite sure he’d get used to it, but he knew that either way, he had to live with it. It seemed like another Pureblood thing to him, he just didn’t understand why he hadn’t heard about it before. 

Harry didn’t even notice that the waitress was back, but when she set the plates on the table with a loud thump, he huffed at the rude interruption. He stared up at her and while she was still flushed, she seemed angrier than before. It made him feel guilty for making her that way, but he told himself he didn’t have a reason to feel bad. She did flirt with Malfoy in front of him, which was unprofessional.

“Anything else?” She practically spat on Harry as she spoke.

Malfoy growled. “Yeah, you can piss off.”

The waitress turned her glare on to him and muttered “git” before she stormed over to another table. Harry picked up his napkin and wiped his face, grimacing. “Some people shouldn’t be in the service industry.”

Malfoy grunted in agreement. “You okay?”

“Her spit wasn’t made of poison, Malfoy,” Harry laughed as he set down the napkin and picked up his knife and fork. He was hungry again because as soon as that first bit of food was swallowed, he took forkfuls at a time, enjoying the taste more and more with each bite.

“Hungry, Potter?” Malfoy snickered, but Harry ignored him. He was too interested in his food to care to retort to his words. Before Harry knew it, his plate was empty and his stomach still ached for more. He glanced up at Malfoy’s full plate before quickly looking away. At the sound of the scraping of the table, Harry tilted his head to see Malfoy pushing his plate towards Harry. “Eat.”

Harry gave Malfoy a big grin in thanks before he started eating his food as well. Before he knew it, it was clean as well. “Sorry, Malfoy,” Harry muttered in embarrassment as he stacked the plates and set them to the side of the table.

“You’re progressing quite quickly with the symptoms of your pregnancy,” Malfoy commented. It was a statement and clearly he was curious about it.

“Yeah,” Harry felt his cheeks flush. 

“I suppose we’ll start seeing weight gain as well. You are carrying twins, after all,” Malfoy commented further. He was stroking his chin in thought.

Harry’s blush deepened and he nodded. If he kept eating this way, he would soon see an increase in his weight. “When do you think I’ll show?” He asked tentatively, unsure if Malfoy would ridicule him for the question or not. 

Malfoy shrugged, “I’m not quite sure. I’ve been reading…” he stopped, as though he just realized what he said, but Harry smiled and nodded encouragingly. It was good that he was reading up about it. Harry hadn’t been and he knew that he really should’ve started by now. “I’ve been reading and it’s different for everyone. Depends on how big the baby gets and how quick. But you’re pregnant with twins, Potter, so you will gain weight quicker than other people.”

“Oh.” Harry stared down at his hidden stomach and rested a hand on it. Even with the picture that Hermione seemed to have stolen to squeal over, it was still hard to believe that twins were growing inside of him. Malfoy’s twins.

“We should go see Madame Pomfrey again, just to understand a few things. We obviously don’t know enough,” Malfoy nodded himself in agreement of his own words, “Yes, that’s a good idea. I will go make an appointment for us with her.”

Harry found himself nodding; there was really no point in arguing with him. Malfoy had his mind set and Harry really did agree with him that the appointment was needed.

“Shall we go?” Harry asked, feeling the prickling gaze of the waitress on the back of his neck.

Malfoy nodded and pulled out some sickles and galleons and left them on the table. They both stood and walked out of the inn. The bustle of Hogsmeade was slowly dying and the walk back to the carriage was quiet. Harry and Malfoy didn’t say much to each other, but Harry caught Malfoy staring at him more than once.

When they finally reached Hogwarts, Malfoy walked him to the Great Hall doors. He smirked at Harry. “Well, tonight wasn’t too bad, was it?”

“No,” Harry admitted as he spun on his heel to look at Malfoy. “I had a good time, Malfoy.” 

“You don’t even have to get me off. I was thinking we could meet up on tomorrow night, Potter? Maybe you could get me off then?” Malfoy raised an eyebrow. 

Harry was tempted to ask Malfoy if he just wanted to see him more often, but he restrained himself. He leaned in before the other man could react and pressed a gentle kiss on his lips. Harry grinned at his astonished look. “I’ll see you tomorrow night then. Goodnight, Malfoy. Let me know when that appointment is.”

And with that, Harry walked back to the Gryffindor Tower.


	7. Chapter Seven

The next day Harry had received a letter from Malfoy telling him that the appointment was on Monday at 2pm like their last appointment. Harry had explained to Hermione and Ron what happened the night before and Ron found the waitress incident hilarious, however he wasn’t really interested in the rest of it. Hermione, on the other hand, was excited to hear that they were progressing in their relationship. She had explained to Harry that Malfoy had been exceptionally nice to everyone and that no one could recall the last time Malfoy had severely insulted or tried to hex someone. Harry agreed that he was getting better and that maybe he deserved a reward for his good behaviour. Which he felt bad for saying because it sounded like Malfoy was a Crup!

That night, he met Malfoy in the Room of Requirement. He was waiting for him on the couch and when he saw Harry, he smirked.

“About time, Potter, I thought I would have to jerk myself off.”

Harry rolled his eyes, but laughed none the less. “Go ahead, Malfoy. You’re the one who would miss out that chance to have my warm body pressed against your own, begging you to rut against me.”

Malfoy let out a strangled groan and stood. He strode over to Harry in three long strides and grasped his upper arms. He pulled Harry into a fierce kiss, their lips colliding in a passionate battle of dominance. Tongues entangled with each other and Malfoy’s grabby hands seized the cheeks of Harry’s arse and pushed his body forward, causing their cocks to brush against each other through layers of clothes. Harry moaned into the kiss, he had never had such an intense snog before.

When the desire for air became too great, the kiss broke and Harry gasped. He laughed softly, earning him a confused look from an out of breath Malfoy.

“Wow!” Harry exclaimed, “Who knew that you would continually be the best kiss of my life, Malfoy?”

Malfoy grunted. “I’ll be your only kisser from now on, Potter.”

Harry laughed again, louder this time. “You actually don’t see me complaining this time.” He walked over to the couch and sat down on it. Malfoy peered at him, but followed him to the cushioned seat. “I’ve heard from Hermione that you’ve been a good boy,” he teased lightly.

Malfoy glared at him, “I’m not a Crup, Potter,” he drawled, those sharp grey eyes narrowing even further.

“I know,” Harry answered with a wide smile. “I just wanted to say that for your good behaviour, I have a gift.”

“Oh really?” Malfoy raised an eyebrow, a smirk lazily playing on his lips as he leant back on the sofa, his arm resting behind Harry. Harry glanced over his shoulder at it before looking back at Malfoy.

“Mhm. Do you want it?” Harry grinned wickedly at him.

“Definitely,” Malfoy’s eyes lit up and he looked like a child in a toy store. He didn’t even know what he was getting, but at the mention of a gift, he was very excited. It amused Harry.

Harry winked at him and slipped onto the floor on his knees. He shimmied himself so he rested between Malfoy’s legs, which instinctively opened further.

“What are you doing, Potter?” Malfoy’s voice was scratchy and his eyes once again darkened, this time with desire. He stared at Harry like a predator would to a prey that it was trying to catch and it made Harry shuffle a little with nerves. 

He smiled up at Malfoy. “I said you get a reward.” He reached up to Malfoy’s belt and worked on the buckle. The button and zip of his pants were next and when he patted Malfoy’s thigh, Malfoy lifted his hips so Harry could pull the offending pants over his arse and down his thighs until they rested at his knees.

Harry shuffled closer and stared at the half hard cock. It had to have reacted to the earlier brush of cocks and Harry didn’t blame Malfoy for being turned on. He, too, was half hard from the snogging and frotting. He took the growing erection into his hand and his tongue darted out to taste the tip of it. Malfoy’s hips jerked forward and he let out a hiss of pleasure.

“Merlin, Potter.”

Harry grinned up at Malfoy. He didn’t know what made him want to give Malfoy a blowjob, but now that he was on his knees, his cock in his hand, he definitely didn’t have a change of mind. It was heavy in his palm and with each new lick, Malfoy grew harder. Harry stared at the head of the erection, flushed an angry red, and took it into his mouth. He suckled on it, the salty taste of the skin marking his tongue. He very rarely gave Justin blow jobs, mostly because he didn’t like the taste of his cock, but Malfoy seemed different – he tasted good.

He released the cock with a quiet pop, leaving behind his saliva. He licked the underside of it, starting at the base and ending at the tip, causing another long, drawn out moan to escape from Malfoy’s open lips. Harry watched the way his eyes rolled in the back of his head and his fists clenched in his own hair, gripping it tightly and mussing the neat style it was set in. 

Harry licked his lips, catching the taste caught on his mouth and grasped the hard erection in his hand again. He kissed the underside towards the base, before spreading the kisses over Malfoy’s balls. He took one of them in his mouth, sucking and pulling on them gently.

Malfoy’s hand reached down to grab Harry’s hair. His fingers massaged his skull before he entwined his fingers in the messy locks, tugging at the strands in desperation. Harry once more released the balls and went back to the cock that jutted out, begging for attention. He slid the erection into his mouth as far as he could get it until his gagging reflexes jolted into action, before slipping it out and in again. He repeated the actions while his hands rolled his balls in his palm. At one point, when he had Malfoy’s cock as far as he could get it into his mouth, Malfoy’s hips jerked up, causing the tip of his erection to hit the back of Harry’s throat and make him gag to the point that he needed to pull it out completely to breathe.

“Malfoy,” Harry warned lowly, breathing deeply through his nostrils as he regained his composure. 

“Sorry,” Malfoy panted, jerking his hips again.

Harry took the hint. He sucked on the head of the cock and inch by inch took the cock back into his mouth. With tongue movements and hard sucks, it wasn’t long before Malfoy was groaning loudly and coming down his throat without warning. Harry was proud that he didn’t choke on it, because it wasn’t a little amount of semen that left Malfoy’s cock either.

After he summoned himself a drink of water, gulping down the liquid needily, he stared at Malfoy.

“Like your gift then?”

Malfoy was standing, redoing the zip and button of his trousers. “It was brilliant, Potter.” He rested back on the couch and watched Harry with a thoughtful stare that sent shivers down Harry’s spine.

Harry nodded. They didn’t have much to say after that and to be honest, Harry didn’t want much said. It was a new starting point for them and he didn’t want it to become awkward. And it hadn’t, if anything, it became easier on both of them.

The next day, Harry had seen Malfoy in Potions and he had motioned Harry to sit next to him. Harry didn’t see any trouble in it, so he did. Hermione seemed okay with it as well because she sat in front of them with Theo, but the other Gryffindors (the seventh years), and even some Slytherins seemed surprised and disgusted by it. Professor Slughorn had even stopped in the middle of his lecture when he finally realized where Harry and Hermione were sitting, before quickly regaining his composure and continuing.  
The potion they were working on was difficult and at one point, Harry was having a hard time squashing some of the vines Slughorn handed out, but Malfoy had covered Harry’s hands with his own and showed him how to do it easily while using his hands in demonstration. Harry could feel himself blush and with a quick glance to his right, he saw Ginny’s eyes widen and she openly gaped at them.

Theo and Hermione seemed to get along just as well. Harry even heard some giggling and quiet murmurs of “oh shush” and “oh Theo, no” followed by more giggles. Harry trusted Hermione though, he knew she loved Ron, but he was secretly glad that she was getting along with one of Malfoy’s friends, or as Theo had called it, acquaintances.

By the time two o’clock came around, Harry walked into the hospital wing to once again be greeted by the sight of Malfoy reading. He didn’t glance up from the magazine he was browsing when Harry entered. 

“Do you know how they are going to get the babies out?” Malfoy asked as soon as Harry walked towards him.

“No,” Harry answered, moving to sit in the seat next to Malfoy and setting down his bag on the floor.

“They use a variety of cutting spells. Because you don’t have a pussy–”

“Malfoy, manners!”

“Fine, because you don’t have a vagina, you can’t push the babies out obviously. It says in this magazine that depending on your weight and health, they have a variety of cutting spells to use. It decides on how big they cut you open and all of that poppycock. Then they use a healing spell and close the wound.” Malfoy finally raised his eyes to meet Harry’s, “So glad it’s not me that’s pregnant, Potter.”

Harry glowered at him. “You’ll still be there, Malfoy. I’m not going to give birth to those babies unless you are there.”

Malfoy snorted as if to say that Harry wished, but Harry knew that he wouldn’t miss it. Malfoy seemed to care a lot for these babies already and Harry was only about two weeks along. 

When Madame Pomfrey ushered them into a private room, she tutted at them, “What happened? Why are you here again?” She asked, scanning Harry’s body for any obvious injuries.

“Actually, we’re here to discuss Potter’s pregnancy,” Malfoy answered. He sat on the edge of the bed and slid into it beside Harry so their shoulders were brushing. 

“Oh really? I suppose you’ll want information about male pregnancy?” She pulled out her wand and pressed it to Harry’s temple. Harry stared up at it cross eyed until she removed it again. 

“Yes, we would,” Harry responded, “if you would give it to us.”

“Of course I would. And just in case you were wondering, I was checking your temperature.” Madame Pomfrey tutted again and summoned a stool. She sat down on it and crossed her legs. “Now, what would you like to know?”

“As much as we can; Potter is already showing symptoms; like vomiting and food cravings.”

“Mr. Malfoy,” she sent him a pointed look, “it is too early for food cravings. If Mr. Potter is eating an excess amount of food,” Harry nodded at this, “it’s not because he’s craving for the babies. It’s because he’s worrying.”

“What do you mean?” Harry questioned, frowning at the nurse.

“I mean that you are worrying over the fact that you need to provide for your children. You are worrying over being a parent. It’s known to happen with Incubi mates. The children are very important to the Incubi and as such, the mates feel the need to protect them because that importance is, well, you could say it’s pushed on to them by the Incubus. You know how important these twins are to Mr. Malfoy, so you are doing everything in your power to provide for them, even when it’s too early for you to be worrying over such a thing. You are only two weeks pregnant, Mr. Potter.”

“So, I’m purposely eating a lot because I think it will help with the babies health, while right now, I don’t need to eat so much?” Harry said it slowly so he understood just exactly what Madame Pomfrey was saying.

“Exactly. Your body is reacting to your Incubus and his need to protect.” Madame Pomfrey glanced between the two males and gave them a strained smile, “I see the relationship is progressing. Have you had sexual intercourse again?”

Harry’s eyes widened at the question. He glanced at Malfoy and noticed that he seemed to be in a similar state. His cheeks were pinched with a light pink and his lips were pursed.

Harry chose to answer it. “Er, sort of? Last night was only the second night we’ve met up to get Malfoy off, you know?”

Madame Pomfrey nodded furiously. “I can understand that, but the question was if sexual intercourse took part of Mr. Malfoy’s release, Mr. Potter. This isn’t a question you should feel embarrassed nor pressured with. A simple yes or no will suffice.”

Harry flushed and cleared his throat. “Well…no. I’ve given him a blowjob though, so we’re getting there, you know?”

Malfoy snorted and glared at Harry. “Do you want to tell her how we were positioned too?”

Madame Pomfrey shook her head. “I need to know this information, Mr. Malfoy, no reason to be embarrassed. Oral sex is a stepping stone to sexual intercourse. You are going the right way about it. What you must understand is that the more time that goes by, the more Mr. Potter will feel just as desperate for your touch. However, the difference is, because of his pregnancy, he will need you inside of him. He can get these urges at any time or anywhere and you must be ready for them. May I suggest carrying around a tube of lube as well? Spelled lube can have horrible after effects on some pregnant men.”

Harry didn’t think it was possible to blush any harder than he was at that moment. He wondered if every ounce of blood in his body was currently rushing to his face, heating it up. His body tensed in discomfiture and he could feel Malfoy’s own rigid shoulder next to him. Harry didn’t have the courage to even glance at the blond. 

“So,” Harry cleared his throat and reached up to scratch his neck nervously, “I’ll er…”

“Yes, Potter, she’s saying you’ll be horny,” Malfoy snapped, not even giving him a glance, “now if you don’t mind, I’d rather not talk about our sex life with Pomfrey.”

“We don’t have a sex life,” Harry mumbled, sending Malfoy a glare that held no contempt. 

“Yes well, we could if you agreed to shag,” Malfoy bit back.

“As if I’d let you put your cock inside of me again, Malfoy,” Harry’s voice rose as the anger burned in his stomach.

“Enough! Really, you act like children.” Madame Pomfrey crossed her arms and glared at both of them. “We will leave it at the point where I tell you that Mr. Potter will crave for you, Mr. Malfoy. Whether you both deny it or not, you were put together because of your attraction for the other. Now, what other questions did you have about your pregnancy?”

Harry’s anger dissipated, being replaced by guilt. “I want to know everything. I want to be a good dad.”

“Mr. Potter, a person cannot learn to be a good parent through a book. They learn from experience, just like you and Mr. Malfoy will. I can’t tell you everything you need to know about your pregnancy, you need to do a little research on your own. But may I suggest talking to Mr. Malfoy and asking for books specifically on Incubi and their mate’s pregnancy. Every Pureblood family usually has some books on them, in a better be safe than sorry manner. One never knows when a man in their family will have dominant Incubi genes.”

“Can it happen to Halfbloods or Muggleborns?” Harry quickly asked.

Madame Pomfrey hummed in thought. “Not so much, no. If one was a Muggleborn, they do not have any magic in their family’s history at all.”

“But if magic came from Incubi mating with Muggles, then how did Muggleborns get that magic in the first place then?”

“Please, Mr. Potter, one question at a time. Why haven’t you been reading the book that was given to Miss Granger?”

Harry flushed at the question and shrugged his shoulders. “I didn’t feel the need to.”

“Well you better start reading it. Magic is a complicated thing, Mr. Potter. Yes, the Incubi bred with Muggles, which made wizards and witches and magic. In legends, it says that Muggleborns come from magic families as well, but the magic in their family was long forgotten after the first generation that was born from the Incubi and Muggle parents.” She raised her hand before Harry could interrupt. “Before you interrupt, let me explain.”

Harry nodded reluctantly and closed his mouth. Malfoy didn’t seem to utter the word, he was too busy staring his fingernails and purposely yawning in feint boredom.

“No one truly knows what happened back then. It was a very long time ago, Mr. Potter, before books could be written and maybe even before we knew how to write. However, the legend says that in some Incubi and Muggle unions, the children felt that the magic was wrong; it was evil, so they refused to do it. Their views were carried on though their children and grandchildren and so on, before magic were no longer in their blood and they were once again, Muggles. But like the dominant Incubi blood, magic can find its way back to being inside a person even when they do not come from a long line of wizards.”

“So once upon a time, Hermione had a full blooded Incubus in her family?”

“Yes,” Madame Pomfrey shook her head, “as such, it can be possible for a Muggleborn or a Halfblood to gain some Incubi blood, but the ratio is quite small. It has never happened before, or at least, it hasn’t been recorded.” She smiled and reached over to pat Harry’s shoulder comfortingly, “To have an Incubi as a mate is a privilege. While you may not see eye to eye with Mr. Malfoy, you’ve found yourself a forever partner, Mr. Potter; someone that you can trust to never betray you.”

“Yes, yes,” Malfoy waved his hand dramatically, “now we’re over this ridiculous little talk, can we get on to the stuff we want to know. Symptoms? You know? Potter is already a moody bastard, but I think that’s just him.”

Harry glowered at him. “Don’t forget that you get rewards for being _nice_ , Malfoy.” He turned his stare to the nurse and sighed. “When will I start showing?”

“Being that you’re pregnant with twins…I’d say around eight weeks, maybe less. It’s different for everyone, but seeing as you’re a fit young man carrying twins, I would assume quite early on,” she cocked her head at Malfoy, “do you have a question, Mr. Malfoy?”

“Er,” Malfoy looked at Harry out of the corner of his eye, “when will this horny streak come on? You know? So I can be ready with lube and that?”

Harry coughed and gaped at the other man, not quite believing that Malfoy had just asked that question. 

Madame Pomfrey laughed. “Well I’ve done my own research and it varies with each Incubi mate. One man was horny, as you call it, by eight weeks, while a female Incubi mate was feeling the need by twenty weeks. It depends on how Mr. Potter’s body handles it. In my opinion, however, by the progressing of his instincts, I’d say it would start quite early. So I may I suggest that you work on getting yourselves to intercourse before that need sets in? It could get quite embarrassing and Mr. Potter could become quite…rough while trying to get you inside of him.”

Harry nodded hastily and stood from the bed. “You know what? I think I can read the rest in the book. You can stay around if you want, Malfoy, but I er…I just remembered I promised Hermione I’d meet her in the library. See you around, Malfoy!”

He heard Malfoy calling his name as he ran out of the hospital wing, but he ignored it. He couldn’t face Malfoy, not with the amount of embarrassment coursing through his body. He didn’t even know why Malfoy brought it up again; he was the one who changed the topic in the first place.

***

Harry groaned as his wand buzzed and shook on the cabinet beside his bed, alarming him to wake up. It had been another week since they went to Madame Pomfrey and he didn’t want to get up. Malfoy hadn’t said much about the visit to the Hospital Wing and Harry was thankful.

They went back to the usual rutting, but that was only after Malfoy asked if he was getting a blowjob again and Harry refused. He knew he was being stubborn, but he wanted to make him suffer for asking the question of Madame Pomfrey. He knew to some extent, they needed to know, but it made Harry feel as though all Malfoy wanted from him was a shag. It made him question if that one date night was just to get in his good books to get what he wanted.

He had no problem with shagging, which is why Justin was only a shag buddy, but Malfoy was the father of the twins he was carrying and he wanted to make something of it. If they were to be a family, he wanted to like Malfoy for who he was, not for how good he was in bed.

Harry had even told Malfoy that, but he was only answered with a snigger and an insult about ‘Potty wanting a romantic relationship.’ For that comment, which happened on the Wednesday, Harry refused to see Malfoy on the Saturday. Malfoy had even come to the Gryffindor tower, snarling at Hermione to allow him to see Harry. Hermione refused. It had the Gryffindors asking questions, but in her own way, Hermione told them to mind their own business.

But it was Monday again and even with all the avoiding Malfoy on the weekend, Harry knew he couldn’t hide in the dormitory. He had classes and McGonagall would skin him alive for being late for her class. He had already missed breakfast and his stomach rumbled. He groaned and slipped out of bed. He didn’t make it far before he was racing to the loo, vomiting. It had started three days ago, on the Saturday morning and every morning since, he woke up with morning sickness. Hermione had offered to brew him something, but he refused. Now, though, he was seriously reconsidering it.

A quick, hot shower did wonders on easing the sick sensation and he quickly dressed, grabbed his bag and ran down to McGonagall’s class. As soon as he reached the room, he tried not to groan. The seat next to Malfoy was his only option and the git was looking at him expectantly. Hermione saw this and stood, as if she was going to walk over to Malfoy and sit next to him, but he growled – actually growled in front of everyone – which caused her to glare at him, but sit back down in her own seat.

Harry shook his head at her, but smiled thankfully as he made his way over to the seat beside Malfoy. He plopped down at on it, but didn’t look at him.

“I’m sorry, Potter.”

Harry didn’t acknowledge his words. He pulled out his scroll, ink and quill and set it up just as McGonagall stood from behind her desk and started talking.

“Potter,” his voice was hushed and sounded as though he was desperate for Harry’s attention.

“Piss off, Malfoy,” Harry hissed back. His stomach rumbled and he flushed, looking at anywhere but Malfoy.

Malfoy snorted and opened his bag. McGonagall sent a pointed look at them and continued to talk. Malfoy didn’t seem to notice as he pulled out a small, white container. He opened it and a strong scent of food assaulted Harry’s nostrils. He had to stop himself from groaning as his stomach grumbled. Harry knew McGonagall saw the container, but she was pointedly ignoring it as though she already knew he had missed breakfast. Out of the corner of his eye – he still wasn’t looking at Malfoy, thank you very much – he saw bacon, an egg, and kippers. Malfoy cast a heating spell on them.

“Eat, Potter, you weren’t at breakfast. You need energy for the babies,” Malfoy pushed the container towards him. He conjured a fork and put it next to the container.

Harry glanced around the room, only to realize that quite a few of the students, seventh and eighth years alike, were trying to watch them, but it was hard to do with McGonagall hovering around. He didn’t care though, he was too hungry. He grabbed the container and fork and starting eating. He thanked Merlin that they sat at the back of the room, so that every time someone glanced at them, they were scolded by McGonagall. 

“This doesn’t mean I forgive you, Malfoy,” Harry muttered quietly, sending a glare towards the blond.

Malfoy grunted. “I said I was sorry. I didn’t know you liked all that romantic stuff, Potter.”

“Well considering we are having children together, I thought it would good to be an actual family when they arrive, you know?” Harry shoved some bacon into his mouth and chewed, “although, I should ask if you even knew what being a family was like.” He knew it was harsh, but Malfoy had insulted his ideals. He had insulted his dreams and he hated him for it. 

Malfoy growled, “Piss off, Potter.” He leaned in further to whisper angrily at Harry, “You might believe that my family is evil and unloving, but my parents did the best they could. They love me and they taught me how to protect myself.”

“And they taught you how to be a right git, didn’t they?” Another two strips of bacon were shoved into his mouth.

Malfoy’s eyes darkened, reminding Harry of what he was and what he could do to him. He hadn’t seen Malfoy in a rage, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to. However, the anger disappeared as quickly as it appeared; leaving sadness in those grey eyes that stared at Harry. 

“You insulted me, Potter. I asked to be your friend and you turned me down.” His words were said gently, the gentlest as Harry had ever heard from him. 

“You insulted Ron’s family,” Harry argued back, “he was my second friend. And you insulted Hagrid,he was my first.”

“I had no reason to insult Hagrid, I admit that, but Weasley snorted at my name. How is that any different?”

It was a good question, Harry had to admit. He turned his gaze away from Malfoy, instead fixing his eyes on the food. He dropped the fork and grabbed a kipper, chewing on the end of it thoughtfully. He saw Ginny turn and smile at him, and around the food in his mouth, he smiled back.

“Listen. Potter, you have to stop asking me to apologise. It’s not good for my reputation,” Malfoy drawled.

Harry tilted his head and realised that Malfoy was attempting a joke. He gave Harry a lopsided smile and shrugged his shoulders. Harry couldn’t help the smile that broke out on his face. “Really, Malfoy? Maybe I should try to get you to apologize more then?”

“Please don’t. I already have Zabini on my arse about the rumours going around about us,” Malfoy snorted and grabbed his quill. He dipped it in his opened bottle of ink and looked up at the blackboard, copying down the notes on there. It made Harry realize that they will still in class. He reached for his own quill, but Malfoy shook his head. “Just eat, I’ll copy them down for you, Potter. But you owe me.”

“What? A blowjob?”

The student in front of them, a Slytherin boy, choked and Harry realized he said it a little too loud. He lowered his voice, “I thought you told the Slytherins.”

“I told the eighth year Slytherins, not the seventh years. As if I care about them,” Malfoy laughed hauntingly, “but thanks to you, the whole school might know…” he paused, smirked at Harry and raised his voice slightly, “that you gave me a blowjob.”

The Slytherin’s hand, that was writing on the scroll slipped, knocked his bottle on ink on the ground. The poor boy scrambled to the floor, trying to clean it up, but only caused a bigger mess. Malfoy laughed beside Harry, shaking his head.

Harry felt bad for him and slid down to the floor to help him. He smiled at the Slytherin, said “calm down,” and swished his wand, spelling away the ink.

“Is there a problem?” McGonagall asked from the front of the class. She looked at them over her half-moon glasses.

“No, professor, just an accident,” Harry replied with a smile.

She nodded in response and went on talking.

Harry smiled at the Slytherin. “I’m Harry,” he said kindly.

“I’m Mundy,” the Slytherin replied tentatively. Harry nodded and patted his shoulder. He stood but before he knew what was happening, there was a growl and a scream and Harry was pushed to the side (luckily to be caught by Ron). When he turned, his eyes widened at Malfoy, who stood tall, his eyes dark in anger and his hand gripping Mundy’s throat. He had him in the air, which showed just how much strength Malfoy had because Mundy wasn’t light. The Slytherin choked for air, his eyes darting from the angry blond in front of him to Harry, pleadingly.

Harry pushed away from Ron. “Malfoy, stop!”

The students had backed away from the angry male, not even the Gryffindors had the courage to approach him while seeing him like this. There wasn’t much change in his appearance, except for his eyes, but the scowl on his face and his mere strength was enough to scare anyone. McGonagall took steps forward, but the closer she got, the harder he gripped Mundy’s neck.

McGonagall glanced at Harry. “Potter, you have to do something. He’ll kill Mr. Winchester if this continues.”

Harry rushed forward, pulling at Malfoy’s arms, but the Incubus only growled at him. It only took a small push with his body and Harry was stumbling backwards. He pulled out his wand.

“Spells won’t work, Potter. When an Incubus is in a rage, spells are deflected,” McGonagall stared at Harry. “Calm your mate down. He’s in a rage because you touched another man.”

Harry looked at her helplessly and nodded. He didn’t know what to do, but with each second he hesitated, Mundy seemed to pale more from loss of air. Harry took steps forward again and rested his hand on Malfoy’s arm. “Malfoy, stop this.” Malfoy didn’t even acknowledge him. “Malfoy, please!” This time he glanced at Harry out of the corner of his eye, but his gaze flicked straight back to the Slytherin, who was whimpering and screeching for help.

Harry didn’t know what to do! Malfoy wasn’t listening.

“Harry, try reassuring him that you only want him!” Hermione said desperately. She was holding on to Ron, her eyes glassy with tears.

Harry nodded quickly and petted the arm again. “Malfoy, I only want you.” That seemed to help. He loosened his grip, but only a little. Mundy was still without air. “I’m carrying your children, Malfoy, not his.” There were gasps of surprise, but Harry dismissed them, concentrating solely on the Incubus. An idea popped into his head. “Draco…please.”

The hold on Mundy’s neck was released and he fell to the ground with a loud thump. He choked, regaining air that had been taken from his lungs. Malfoy turned and Harry grimaced, expecting a hit of some kind. Instead, arms wrapped around his waist and he was pulled flushed against Malfoy’s chest. Malfoy buried his head in his neck and breathed deeply; Harry assumed it was to breathe in his scent. He returned the hug, smiling at McGonagall over Malfoy’s shoulder.

McGonagall nodded, but her face was stern. There was going to be trouble over this.

“It’s okay, Draco,” Harry reassured quietly, his fingers entwining themselves in Mal – Draco’s hair. “It’s okay. No one is going to steal me off you. I promise.”

Malfoy hummed in content.

McGonagall ushered the other students out, but before she left the classroom, she stared at Harry pointedly. “This must be discussed, are we understood? Meet me in my office at 6pm, Potter.”

Harry nodded.

It was quite easy to calm Malfoy down after that. He had chosen to take him to the Room of Requirement again, just to get them out of the ‘spotlight.’ Malfoy didn’t speak much except for small murmurs of “sorry” and “Father is going to kill me.” Harry felt sorry for him, but he continued to pet his hair like he had done in the classroom to keep him calm.

When Malfoy finally came back to his full senses, he still didn’t say much. Instead, he fell into a deep sleep that Harry guessed was brought on by exhaustion.

So he let him sleep, Draco’s head resting on his chest, Harry stroking the soft, pale cheek comfortingly as quiet snores filled the silent room. Harry had never seen him sleep before and he revelled at how peaceful he looked. He looked beautiful.


	8. Chapter Eight

Draco didn’t wake again until a couple of hours later. Harry didn’t have the heart to awaken him, so he was glad that he woke before the time to visit McGonagall’s office approached. Draco didn’t apologize again; he just huffed and stated that Mundy deserved it. While Harry disagreed, he knew that Draco was only trying to come up with reasons to make himself feel better about it. He was not a killer, he had proved that before, and so Harry assumed that he felt bad for nearly killing Mundy.

Draco had told Harry that it wasn’t illegal for him to do so as he was an Incubus and he was considered to be fencing off a possible threat. If he had killed Mundy, the Ministry couldn’t do anything about it. It was stated in the magical creature law that Incubi were allowed to do such things. Although, Harry had a feeling that didn’t make things easier on Draco, considering he nearly killed a man a year younger than them; an innocent man.

When they finally reached the office, Draco had gone quiet again, not even uttering the password – Harry had to do it. As they walked through the door, they were greeted by the stares of Professor McGonagall, Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy, Mundy and two adults who appeared to be his parents and Minister Kingsley Shacklebolt. Harry sighed, knowing that this was going to be bigger trouble than he had first anticipated.

They took their seats beside the Malfoys and McGonagall spoke first.

“As you have been told, Mr. and Mrs. Winchester, Mr. Malfoy is an Incubus and thus he was protecting his mate when he thought there was a threat.”

“That is no excuse,” the woman who spoke – Mrs. Winchester – was a pudgy woman with greying black hair and dark brown eyes. Her nose was pointy, her eyebrows thick and her chin quite wide and round. Her thin lips were upturned in a sneer and the beady brown eyes turned on Harry and Draco, accusingly. She was far from a pretty sight and Harry assumed that Mundy inherited his cute appearance from his father, who sat beside the quiet boy staring at the ground. He had to remind himself not to mention this fact to Draco, just in case it brought on a new bout of rage. 

“I assure you, Mrs. Winchester, it is,” Mr. Malfoy drawled, taping his new cane on the ground impatiently, “my son has every right to protect and defend his mate.”

Harry was sitting the furthest away from Mr. Malfoy, who sat on the left (with Harry to the right and the two other Malfoys between them), and he thanked Merlin he was. He could hear the venom dripping from the older man’s voice and he didn’t want to be on the receiving end of it. It was different from what Harry had ever heard from him and he assumed it was because this particular situation had to do with Draco and a life sentence in Azkaban for attempted murder. Harry shuddered at the thought. They wouldn’t dare.

“Absolute poppycock. Minster, I wish something done about this boy,” she hissed, her condemning staring turning to Kingsley, “he shouldn’t be here in the first place.”

“No!” Harry stood from the chair, ignoring the surprised looks from Lucius Malfoy and Kingsley. “It’s my fault. I provoked the reaction out of him because I touched Mundy’s shoulder. If anyone should be punished, it should be me.”

“Oh don’t be silly, boy, they won’t punish you! You’re the Boy Who Lived,” the woman growled.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Mr. Malfoy smirking at him and Harry realized that he had clued on to what Harry was playing at. They wouldn’t touch Harry and by him taking the blame, the whole situation would disappear and quickly.

“Being that Mr. Draco Malfoy is an Incubus, no laws can be passed against him,” Kingsley spoke strong, his voice loud, most likely to get his point across.

“I will take this to the Wizengamot, Minister, I will. They will see justice in punishing him. The Kiss, I say, he deserves The Kiss!” Her voice was becoming frantic and screechy in desperation.

“It won’t happen again, Mrs. Winchester. Draco…” Harry glanced at Draco, who contemplated him with an intense stare, “and I have sorted out our problems. If we allow the students to know the truth about our situation, then there would be no worry in regards to anyone else being hurt. No one will touch me and I will touch no one but Draco. At least until I give birth.”

“Birth?” Mundy finally looked up from the ground and his eyes widened, “You’re pregnant?”

“I am,” Harry confirmed with a smile, “Only a couple of weeks though.”

“Three,” Draco finally spoke up. He stared at Mundy and Harry wasn’t sure if it was meant to be intimidating or not. “He’s three weeks pregnant with my twins.”

“Oh,” Mundy grinned then, a wide toothy smile as he glanced from Harry to Draco. “Congratulations! My older brother is gay; he’s in a relationship with a lovely fellow, a Muggle. The Muggle was pretty surprised when he found out my brother was pregnant.”

“Really?” Harry couldn’t help but laugh at his enthusiasm. “How far along?”

“Eight months. Not long before I’m an uncle. I can’t wait because – ”

“Oh enough, Mundy, stop playing nice. Your brother is a ponce who has been disowned from our family,” the woman beside him spat angrily. Harry was positive that he even saw spit land on Mundy’s face, which made him grimace. “Just like these filthy animals. Ponces, the lot of them.”

Lucius Malfoy stood from the chair, extracting his wand out of his cane, and pointed it at the pudgy woman. As if she was expecting it, Mrs. Winchester stood as well, her own wand drawn from her robes and flicked it, directing it straight back at him.

Harry rose as quickly as he could and took one large step, standing between the two wands, and raised his hands in a stopping gesture to both of them. “Stop! This is ridiculous.”

“Potter…” McGonagall stood from her chair, her face stern as she moved around the desk.

Before she came anywhere near him, Harry was pulled back from behind, out of the firing range, by warm long arms that wrapped out his stomach. His back was pressed against Draco’s chest and a warm cheek pressed against Harry’s. “Keep out of the way, Potter,” Draco whispered into his ear, “or I’ll hurt both of them for aiming their wand at you.”

“We have to stop them, Malfoy. This is ridiculous,” Harry struggled against Malfoy’s hold, but no matter what he did, he couldn’t escape the arms.

“Enough!” Kingsley stood, his massive form towering over Mrs. Winchester’s form. He rested a hand on her shoulder and glared between her and Mr. Malfoy. His eyes rested on Mrs. Winchester. “It would be wise, Mara, not to insult these boys or their family. Am I clear?”

Mrs. Winchester raised her chin defiantly, but said, “Of course, Minister.” She replaced her wand and sat down in her vacant chair again.

When Kingsley’s stare turned on Mr. Malfoy, he sniffed indignantly and also replaced his wand. His eyes darted to look at Harry and Malfoy before taking his seat. A thank you for defending them was on the tip of Harry’s tongue, but he held it back. It wouldn’t do well to surprise Mr. Malfoy is such a way.

Malfoy tugged at Harry and they both retook their chairs.

Kingsley then sighed and raised a hand, “As Minster, my word is final. Mr. Malfoy was doing only what his instincts forced him to do and that was to protect his mate. As such, all pending punishment for his actions will be cancelled. If you have a problem with that, Mrs. Winchester,” he looked directly at her, his dark eyes accessing her carefully, “then I am sorry, but there is nothing you can do about it.”

Her jaw tightened, but she nodded none the less. It was strained, just like her hands that curled into fists, but even she wasn’t dumb enough to argue with the Minster of Magic.

She stood, “If we are done then, my family will depart.”

McGonagall nodded and with that, Mrs. Winchester grabbed Mundy’s arm, pulling him to his feet roughly and pushed him towards the door. Her husband rose as well, but his long face, pale and withdrawn, didn’t show any emotion as he walked towards the entrance. He didn’t even look like he comprehended where he was or what was happening. Before he walked out of the door, Mundy smiled at Harry and waved, before he was pushed out of the door by his mother.

The door clicked closed and Harry sighed loudly. “That woman…”

“Very strange, isn’t she?” Kingsley raised an eyebrow, but his gaze never left the door that the family had just exited. “I’d be careful of them, Minerva, I don’t trust Mara.”

“Indeed,” McGonagall nodded and walked around the desk again to take her seat. “However, this conversation is not finished. Lucius, Narcissa, you understand my predicament.”

“We do, Minerva, however even Minster Shacklebolt agrees that Draco was doing only as his instincts forced him to,” Mrs. Malfoy crossed her knees and rested her hands in her lap, giving her the appearance of the elegant woman that she was.

“As that may be,” Kingsley waved his hand, “we still have the problem of the chance of it happening again. Mr. Malfoy is a danger to the students at this school.”

“But he’s not!” Harry exclaimed, sitting on the edge of his chair. “Kingsley, it was my fault, not Malfoy’s. If the students know what’s going on, they won’t touch me and I certainly won’t touch them.”

“Yes, but some students are young, Potter, some will try to touch you just for the adrenaline rush. You remember when you were a first year, Potter, the rush you felt when you fought that troll in the girl’s bathroom.” McGonagall looked at him over her half-mooned glasses with knowing eyes.

“Please, Professor, I’ll do whatever you want. I…” Harry bit his lip and glanced at Malfoy. He had his eyebrows raised in surprise as he watched Harry argue his point. Apparently he was stunned that Harry was defending him. “I need him here,” he finished as he turned back to look at McGonagall.

“Potter, it’s not that easy unfortunately.”

“But you can’t expel him or anything. That’s practically discrimination!”

McGonagall pursed her lips, “Discrimination is not the issue, Potter.”

“What do I have to do then?” His eyes whipped from McGonagall to Malfoy to Mr. and Msr. Malfoy and back to McGonagall, “What do I have to do to reassure Malfoy’s instincts?”

“Well,” Mr. Malfoy smiled genuinely at Harry, “It would probably help if you shared a room with him. At least with the extra time with you, including sleeping beside you, it may calm his instincts that tad more.”

Harry nodded furiously and looked pleadingly at McGonagall, “Professor?”

McGonagall stared at him for a long moment before finally nodding. “Very well, Potter, but if he attacks another student, it will be on your head.”

“Yes, Professor.”

“Anything you’d like to add, Kingsley?” McGonagall glanced at the Minister, but he only smiled at Harry and shook his head. “Very well, then this meeting is over. I will arrange for rooms to be set up immediately. It would be wise for both of you,” she looked at Harry and Malfoy pointedly, “to go start packing your belongings. Tomorrow, we will inform the school of your situation.”

Harry nodded solemnly. He knew that it meant that the students would look at him differently once more, some with stares of pity, others with stares of disgust. However, just like all the other years, Harry would ignore them, and pretend that he couldn’t feel the gazes burning into his back.

Harry rose from his seat. He smiled at Mrs. Malfoy, who smiled back, and walked towards the door. As soon as he was down the stairs and past the statue, a hand grabbed his arm, spinning him around and bringing him face to face with Malfoy.

Malfoy pursed his lips as he peered around the hallway. It was empty, except for some portraits that didn’t deem them important enough to pay attention to. “Thank you, Potter.”

Harry nodded shortly and raised an eyebrow, “I guess you owe me one, Malfoy.”

Malfoy snorted and rolled his eyes. “Do you want me to wank you off tonight?” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Harry laughed and shook his head, “Is that all you think about? Sex and wanking?”

Malfoy smirked, “Well, my thoughts are a little more graphic, but I don’t think you’d appreciate them, at least not yet.”

Harry rolled his eyes in exasperation. “No, I don’t suppose I would.” He sighed, staring down at Malfoy’s expensive looking jacket. He reached out to touch it, his fingers grazing over the long, folded collar of the black, tweed jacket. “Malfoy, you’re still a git.” He licked his lips and raised his eyes to meet Malfoy’s, “But I’m not doing this damn pregnancy alone. It’s your fault I’m knocked up in the first place. I’d rather have you by my side than imprisioned at your home or something. Just…learn to control it, yeah?”

“You think I don’t want to, Potter? Control it, I mean?” Malfoy grunted. He grabbed Harry’s exploring hand in his own and brought it up to his cheek, pressing the bare palm over his pale, warm cheek. “I try, you know? It’s bloody hard. It’s like being an alcoholic and having firewhiskey right there in front of you. How long before you can resist the temptation? My temptation is you – who the bloody hell knows why – and I can’t stop my nature. Every time I see someone move to touch you, even Granger, I want to rip off their hands and feed it to the Thestrals.” As if realizing what he was doing, he let go of Harry’s hand as though it burnt his skin and took a step back. “Just so you know, Potter, I will not have my designer clothes anywhere near yours. This weekend, I’m going to take you to get some new clothes. Yours are dreadfully unfashionable.”

“I like my clothes,” Harry protested weakly. He already knew he wasn’t going to win this battle.

“And I like some of my House-Elves, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to take them out for a walk so people have to grimace at the sight of them, does it?”

Harry opened his mouth to retort, but Malfoy had already turned on his heel and strode in the opposite direction that Harry was going. He glared at Malfoy’s back and when the Slytherin was out of sight, he couldn’t help but shake his head. Then, he turned and made his way back to the Gryffindor Common Room.

***

“Where the hell are you going, mate?” Seamus asked, staring at Harry’s closed trunk that sat on the bed.

Harry was fiddling with the latches until they clipped closed. “I have my own room.” All of his friends were going to find out tomorrow anyway and Harry felt like they deserved to find out from him at least.

“Why?” Seamus frowned as he crossed his arms.

Harry knew that Seamus thought he was getting special attention and in a way, he was. Just not for the reason his friend thought.

“Because Malfoy is an Incubus, I’m his mate and I’m pregnant with his children,” Harry straightened his back and crossed his arms, daring Seamus to say anything bad about him or his unborn babies.

Seamus gaped at him, his eyes wide with disbelief.

“Incubus?” Ginny repeated. She turned to stare at Ron, who nodded in confirmation.

“What’s an Incubus? Like a demon?” Dean asked from next to Seamus.

“I’ll let Seamus explain it to you,” Harry shrugged his shoulders and grabbed his trunk’s handle to pull it off the bed, but before he could get very far, Hermione cleared her throat and glared. “Fine, fine,” he muttered as he pulled out his wand and flicked it, levitating the large, heavy suitcase.

Hermione nodded in satisfaction, “And are we allowed to visit?”

Harry frowned. “I don’t see why not.” He levitated the trunk in front of him and towards the door before he carefully lowered it to the ground. He turned to Hermione and smiled, “you still have my picture right?”

Hermione blushed, but nodded none the less. “I was...doing research on it.”

Harry knew she was lying, but he wasn’t going to argue. He smiled at her and brought her into a hug. He whispered into her ear quietly so Ron couldn’t hear him, “One day, you’ll make a brilliant mother, Hermione. And there is no doubt that you will be the godmother to one of my children.”

When he pulled back, he saw her hastily wiping at tears on her face. She gave him a watery smile and nodded.

“I got another bloody eight months of this,” Harry muttered with a smirk. He raised his shirt to look at his flat stomach and sighed, “Do you think I’ll look terrible when I’m fat?”

Hermione chuckled and slapped at his hands and pulling at the shirt until it was covering his bare stomach again. “Careful, Harry. Now, and especially when you get further along, Malfoy is not going to like you showing your stomach. He’ll consider anyone trying to touch it a threat. Remember, those babies and you are everything to him and he can’t help his instincts.”

“How long will this protective instinct last for?” Harry asked curiously.

“Forever, except, not to this extent. Malfoy is only like this at the moment because you just found each other and this is your first pregnancy. With the next pregnancy, he won’t be so protective and controlling. I think once you’ve given birth and once you and Malfoy consummate your relationship properly through marriage and sexual intercourse, it’ll be easier on him.”

Harry flushed at the gaping stares he was receiving. Ginny, Seamus and Dean were still in shock and Harry didn’t blame them. To them, he had gone from the Harry who ‘disliked’ Malfoy, to the Harry who was carrying Malfoy’s children in mere seconds.

“But we’ve already had sex,” he argued quietly, looking at Hermione while trying to ignore the others in the room.

“Yes, but only once. Until you have sex on a regular basis, his instincts are going to be protective and unsure. He’s scared you are going to leave him. Now if you’d just read the book!” Hermione huffed, “I’ll be right back.” She left the room in hurriedly.

“So, you and Malfoy, eh?” Seamus finally stopped gaping. He looked annoyed now, which wasn’t any better. “He’s a Death Eater, Harry!”

“Yes,” Harry admitted quietly, “but he was forced into it, Seamus. If your family’s lives were threatened, what would you do for them?”

“I wouldn’t bloody join You Know Who, that’s for sure,” Seamus shook his head and grunted.

“If it meant saving someone you love, you would do anything for them,” Harry hissed, “Malfoy had a choice of joining the Death Eaters or watching his parents die in front of his eyes.” Harry shook his head, running a hand through his messy hair and gripped a large chunk of it in frustration. “Malfoy never killed anyone, Seamus.”

Seamus opened his mouth to retort, but Ron leaned over to whack him on the back of the head. “What was that for?” He hissed angrily.

“Shut up, you wanker. Yeah, Malfoy is a pillock, but he’s an Incubus, Seamus. He’ll protect Harry; he’ll side with Harry from now on. So just leave it, yeah?”

“That doesn’t make up for his past,” Seamus stood from his bed and crossed his arms, shoving his hands into his armpits, and glowered.

“I never said it did, Seamus,” Harry bit back, “But if people didn’t get second chances to redeem themselves, a lot of people wouldn’t get another chance to make up for their mistakes. You wouldn’t have had the second chance to be my friend, would you? You were against me when the Ministry was making up lies and when you said you were sorry, I forgave you, didn’t I?”

“That’s different, Harry!” His voice was quieter; the anger has diminished as though he was realizing that Harry was right.

“No, it’s not,” Harry said just as softly. “Seamus, Malfoy isn’t as bad anymore. I mean, you’ve seen him. He’s been nice to people – not entirely civil – but he doesn’t insult them. He doesn’t hex anyone.”

Seamus opened his mouth as though he was going to argue more, but his jaw snapped shut. He sighed and rose from the bed. In two long strides, he was standing directly in front of Harry and smiling grimly. “He better treat you right, mate, otherwise I’ll give him something to cry about.”

Harry grinned widely and resisted the temptation of hugging Seamus. He wondered how Draco would react if he smelt Seamus’ cologne on him. He didn’t want to find out. He didn’t even slap him on the back as he usually would.

Hermione bustled into the room, a large book in her arms. She stopped short at the sight and smiled gingerly. “Everything okay?”

“Just peachy, although I can’t even give my friend a hug. I can’t even touch him. Pretty bonkers if you ask me.” Seamus answered with a smile. He nodded and walked back over to the bed

Hermione nodded solemnly, “Yes, but after Harry gives birth, the protection will ease, don’t worry.”

“That’s another eight months, Hermione,” Ginny pointed out. She seemed to be taking the news better than Seamus and Dean did. She was smiling at Harry, but her eyes seemed to dart from his face to his stomach. Harry wondered if she was going to have a squealing moment like Hermione. He didn’t quite understand some women and their behaviour towards pregnancy and children.

“Yes,” Hermione grinned, “and then there will be babies! Of course, one of them will be my godchild. I will teach him or her about reading and the best ways to study.” Her voice was filled with pride. It made Harry laugh.

“You’re going to scar the poor kid, that’s what you’ll do,” Ron teased, winking at Harry in the process. Harry laughed louder and shook his head.

“Mate, I’d watch your tongue if I was you.”

Hermione huffed and glared at Ron before handing Harry the book. “That’s the book I was given to read for you. Make sure you read it, Harry. There isn’t much to learn on the Incubi, they aren’t as complex as some magical creatures, but there is certainly information in there that you should read. There is information on how you will act in your pregnancy and what you’ll need, there is information on how Malfoy will react in your pregnancy and about how he’ll react after you give birth. There is also the Incubi’s history, which I found most interesting.” Harry sent her a look and she sighed, “No, you probably won’t be interested in it. Anyway, I’ve marked some chapters you should read, it’s about Malfoy’s instincts and about a mate’s duty. Read it, please?”

Harry nodded. “I will.”

***

When Harry finally received a letter from McGonagall, telling him where the room was located, Harry said his goodbyes to his best friends and made his way to his new living space. He had promised to see the Gryffindors at breakfast the next morning and even though Harry didn’t want to go, he knew he had no choice in the matter.

When he reached the room – which was on the second floor – and muttered the password to a very old lady in the portrait. He entered, only to find Malfoy already waiting. The blond was sitting on the couch, his legs outstretched and feet resting on the small coffee table in front of him. Both of his ankles and his arms were crossed and when he saw Harry, he smirked.

“About time you got here, Potter. Saying a teary farewell to your friends?”

Harry rolled his eyes. “It’s not like I’ll never see them again, Malfoy. Merlin, I’m just moving sleeping areas, why would I cry about that?” He paused and raised an eyebrow mockingly, “Is that what you did?”

Malfoy snorted and rose from his seat just as Harry lowered his trunk to the ground. He strode over to Harry and without even asking for permission, Malfoy undid the clips to his trunk and was rummaging around in the clothes.

Harry gaped in shock. “What are you doing?” He reached out of grab Malfoy’s arm and tugged at it, causing both of them to fall on the ground on their arses.

“Potter!”

“Get out of my trunk, Malfoy!” Harry growled angrily, “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“I’m merely confirming my thoughts on your clothes. They are terrible, Potter, and so Muggle. It’s disgusting.”

“I didn’t ask for your acceptance in my clothing choice, Malfoy,” Harry retorted. He crawled over to his trunk and slammed the top of it closed, relatching the clips together again.

“You are my mate, Potter, and as such you will be considered a Malfoy. You can’t go around looking like you are a squib,” Malfoy huffed and stood. He shook his head in exasperation, “Mother will not accept this.”

“I don’t care what your mother would accept or not, Malfoy,” Harry cocked his head to glower at the other man, “Neither of you can tell me what to wear.”

Malfoy’s nose crinkled as he drew back in disgust, “Very well, we shall see. Don’t expect to put those clothes anywhere near mine. The wardrobe will be for my clothes only.”

Harry grunted, suddenly reminded of what a snobbish git Malfoy was. “Is there two rooms?”

“One,” Malfoy smirked, “Which means we get to share a queen sized bed, Potter.”

“Yippee,” Harry muttered sarcastically. He sighed and pulled out his wand and charmed the trunk to hover up the stairs and towards what Harry assumed was the bedroom. He opened the door and gasped in surprise. Unlike the green furnishings like he expected (He thought Malfoy would have changed the colours of it, just to piss him off), it was a mixture of red and silver. 

A large four poster bed – with red coverings – rested against the wall in the middle of the room, a large silver wardrobe was to the right and two red armchairs with silver trimming was positioned to the left, with a small table between them. A chessboard was set up on the table as well and the pieces to it were made of glass.

“It’s well set up. McGonagall did alright.”

Harry jumped and spun on his heel. His gaze met the amused face of Malfoy, who stood with his shoulder against the door frame and his arms and ankles crossed. 

“She did.” Harry turned away from Malfoy to once again look around the room. He couldn’t express in words at how…homely it felt. It wasn’t an exactly duplicate of Gryffindor’s dormitories, but it had a somewhat familiar aspect to it.

Harry jumped when he felt hands grip his arms, but he didn’t try and turn around. 

“Potter,” The word was whispered in his ear, the hot breath tickling Harry’s neck and making his neck hair stand on edge.

“What?” Harry spoke just as quietly, unsure as to why they were even whispering. There was no one but them in the room. Although, there were a couple of portraits downstairs and there was no doubt in his mind that everything that was said would be reported back to McGonagall.

Malfoy was breathing deeply and Harry wasn’t sure whether he was doing it on purpose or not. It didn’t take him long to realize that he wasn’t, not when a very hard bulge pressed against his arse insistently.

Harry rolled his eyes. “Are you serious, Malfoy?”

Malfoy chuckled low in his throat. “I need sexual release, Potter.”

Harry opened his mouth to retort, but the only thing that escaped his mouth was a grunt when Malfoy’s cock thrust against his arse again. His own cock stirred in his pants, aware of the very masculine scent that assaulted his nostrils. Malfoy smelt good.

“And it seems you do too.”

The cockiness in his voice made Harry want to punch him in the face, however he was too busy pushing back against the rutting erection.

“Shall we move this to the bed?”

Harry knew he should have protested, he should have just told Malfoy that they could do it there, thank you very much, and that was that. However, he couldn’t, not when Malfoy’s very nice cock – not that he’d admit that to Malfoy – was pushing against him.

“We’re not shagging, Malfoy,” Harry grounded, reaching back to grab a hold onto Malfoy so he didn’t fall forward with the thrusts against his arse.

“Yeah, yeah, Potter.”

“I don’t like you, you know that?” Harry muttered once the rutting stopped and Malfoy grasped his upper arm, guiding him towards the large bed.

“Right,” Malfoy obviously wasn’t paying attention to him because he didn’t even give a small glance.

“You insult my clothes–”

“They are pretty fucking terrible clothes though, Potter.”

“Fuck off.” Harry glowered at Malfoy when the other man pushed him onto the bed. Harry rearranged himself so he was on all fours and facing towards the top of the mattress. He reached out to grip the frame as Malfoy positioned himself behind Harry’s arse and started to rut against him. 

Harry thrust his arse back, meeting the rough movements of Draco’s hips with enthusiasm. His cock swelled harder, pressing against his pants so persistently that Harry couldn’t help but reach down and unzip his pants. He pulled out his erection, spat on his hand and then wrapped it around the girth, tugging on the hard flesh.

Malfoy must have seen what he did because he groaned, his arm circling Harry’s waist until it slipped under his shirt, resting on his flat stomach. His fingers caressed the skin there and his touch felt like jolts of lightning were entering his body. He could hear the blood pumping in his ears and he grunted, pressing back against Malfoy.

Malfoy fumbled behind him and Harry wasn’t quite sure what he was doing until he felt a bare cock against his clothed arse. He growled in warning, but Malfoy snorted at him.

“It’s not like I’m going to give you a surprise shagging, Potter,” Malfoy sneered, “I’m just jerking off.”

Harry didn’t comment; he was too busy moving backwards again and again to feel the other man against him. He didn’t know where this sudden need came from, but he seemed to desire this as much as Malfoy did.

“Stop! Potter, stop!”

Harry grunted in annoyance, but stopped his movements. “If you think I’m going to bend your willy, Malfoy, put it back in your pants,” he snapped angrily. 

Malfoy huffed. “I want to try something different.”

Harry glanced over his shoulder and glared at the blond man that seemed intent on making his life hell. “What?”

Malfoy rolled his eyes. “Stop acting like a girl, Potter. If you were a real man, you’d just let me shag you.”

Harry kicked backwards, his foot connected with Malfoy’s thigh and it earned him a pained groan.

“What the fuck, Potter? You moody bastard.”

“Just because I don’t want your ugly cock inside of me doesn’t mean I’m any less of a man, Malfoy.” Harry turned to sit on his arse, forgetting about the fact that his cock was hanging out of his pants and glared with more intensity. He moved to shove his erection back inside his zip, but Malfoy’s hand stopped him by grasping his wrist.

“Hate to break this to you, Potter, but you’ve had my _ugly_ cock inside of you already. You were even gifted with my seed; hence you are pregnant with my children.”

Harry bent his leg back again; this time aiming for Malfoy’s other thigh.

Malfoy raised his hand. “Stop.” He glared at the offensive foot. “Just trust me, okay?”

“Malfoy, you don’t deserve anything,” Harry spat.

Malfoy sighed and muttered something. Harry didn’t quite catch it, but he was sure it was something along the lines of him being moodier than a woman on her monthly cycle.

As he opened his mouth to retort, Malfoy grabbed his tie, dragging his face closer.

“I want to do something for you, Potter.”

The words intrigued Harry. He frowned and snapped his mouth closed, watching Malfoy carefully. “What do you mean?”

Malfoy leaned in closer, his lips a mere inch from Harry’s before he spoke. “I want to rim you.”

“What?” Harry swallowed, unsure how he should react to that. He knew what rimming was, he wasn’t stupid. He had discussed it once with Justin, but the Hufflepuff had refused to even think about it. Harry accepted that maybe he would never do it to a man, much less have it done to him.

“I want to taste you.” Malfoy’s voice had grown husky, his eyes dark – but not in anger, in lust.

“I –” Harry licked his lips and glanced around the room nervously. “Malfoy, this is about getting you off, not me.”

“You heard Pomfrey; soon you’ll need this just as much as me. We should start now, yeah? And I’ll get off, I’ll wank myself off when I eat you out.”

Harry bit his lip, hard. He snorted to cover his embarrassment before curiosity won him over. There was no harm in trying things once and if he didn’t like it, he didn’t have to do it again. He nodded.

“Take off your clothes.” Malfoy was already in the process of undressing himself. His shirt came off first – Harry’s eyes roamed over the scarred skin and grimaced – and then his trousers and boxers were kicked off, giving Harry a view once more of his naked body. He hadn’t seen Malfoy fully naked since the first time he woke up beside him.

Harry didn’t undress quickly. He stood from the bed, slipped his tie off from around his neck and unbuttoned his shirt slowly. His fingers faltered on his trousers. Even though his cock was still sticking out, he was still hesitative about being completely naked in front of Malfoy once more. It was his school enemy, after all. Yes, they had frotted against each other and even had sex once before – not that that counted because Harry couldn’t remember it – but it still felt intimidating, as though it was one big prank and he was going to be left there, naked and ashamed.

“Potter?” Malfoy raised an eyebrow. His features didn’t betray any form of mocking, but that didn’t stop Harry from being suspicious. He shouldn’t have, considering that he was carrying Malfoy’s child and that was a step too far for pranks, but it felt like a defensive mechanism.

Harry shook it off and sighed. He inelegantly undid the button to his trousers and slid them down his pale legs. He stepped out of them and kicked them to the side before re-joining Malfoy on the bed.

“How do I –”

Malfoy didn’t smirk; he merely nodded to Harry’s former spot on the mattress. “Just lay on the bed.”

Harry nodded and crawled over the hard mattress, his cock bobbing against his stomach as he moved. Resting on his stomach, he spread his legs and buried his face in the pillow, hoping that none of his embarrassment was seen by Malfoy. He was spread out before his former enemy and he didn’t think he could stand to see the look on Malfoy’s face.

A groan sounded behind him and Harry couldn’t resist sneaking a peek. Malfoy’s hand was wrapped around his cock, jerking it speedily as he peered down at Harry’s arse. His hole was exposed, he knew that and apparently, Malfoy liked what he saw if the look of hunger on his face was anything to go by.

“Have you done this with Finch-Fletchley?” Malfoy glanced at him and raised an eyebrow.

Harry snorted. “Have you done this with Zabini?” He retorted snidely.

Malfoy didn’t hesitate in answering. “No.” He smirked and reached out to pet Harry’s bare arse cheek. It made Harry jump forward in surprise. “I wouldn’t put my mouth anywhere near Blaise’s arse. Now stop worrying about Blaise, will you?”

“I will if you stop worrying about Justin.” He paused, “Why do you want to do it with me then?”

Malfoy smirked and shuffled on the bed until he sat on his knees behind Harry. It was hard to see him now, but he could just see the side of his face. “Because you’re my mate, because I am going to spend the rest of my life with you and I want to do everything with you.”

“Corny, Malfoy,” Harry chuckled.

“But it’s going to get me what I want, isn’t it?”

It was true and Harry couldn’t really deny it. Malfoy’s hands rested on Harry’s lower back and he shivered at the touch. One hand ran up and down his skin, feeling, while the other rested on his hip. Malfoy’s hand pulled at him, raising his hips so his arse was in the air, before the hand ran under him again and touched his belly. The touches were soft, teasing, and then suddenly his hand was wrapped around Harry’s cock, tugging mercifully at it.

“Malfoy,” Harry hissed, his hips jerking forward.

Malfoy laughed softly and let go of Harry’s cock just as quick as he grabbed it. Both of his hands grabbed Harry’s arse cheeks, squeezing them and slapping. The actions made Harry flush and burrow his head back into the pillow. Justin had never bothered to do anything like this and it felt…intimate. This made Malfoy’s actions ever stranger and embarrassing.

Harry jumped when he felt teeth sink into the soft flesh of his right arse cheek. His head flew to the side to look at Malfoy. He couldn’t see him, not with the angle his head was turned at, but he felt his mouth suck on the flesh in his mouth.

“Malfoy…” Harry groaned, “You’re kissing my arse, literally.”

Malfoy snorted, the breath escaping through his nose because his mouth was too busy with Harry’s arse. When he pulled back, Harry shivered as the cold air hit the wet and bitten skin.

“Technically, I was biting your arse. Sorry, Potter, I was feeling possessive over it; marking it and all that nonsense.” Malfoy had to audacity to wink before he was leaning back down to kiss the bitten skin softly. A tongue flicked out, lightly tracing the indents that he had left with his teeth.

Harry opened his mouth to retort, but he was stopped by the hands that spread his arse, exposing his hole to the other man. He swallowed, unsure, but waited to see what Malfoy was going to do next. And then he jumped when the wet tongue flicked, very lightly, over his quivering hole. 

“Mal-Malfoy?”

Malfoy grunted, but it didn’t sound like he was paying attention. The tongue flicked over the hole again, teasing the puckered flesh.

Harry’s hands fisted the sheets on the bed and he bit his lip hard. He wiggled his hips a little, but Malfoy grabbed them to stop him from moving. Having the tongue tease his hole was a weird feeling and while it didn’t make him uncomfortable, it was new to him.

“Hold still, Potter.”

Malfoy grunted and it didn’t take a genius to work out that he was wanking himself off while he flicked his tongue against Harry’s arsehole. It was a smart idea really and it gave Harry cause to slip his own hand beneath him, encircling his cock and tugging at the hard flesh.

The flicks of Malfoy’s tongue became laps and shivers of pleasure ran up Harry’s spine. He spread his legs further and his hand on his cock tugged faster. It was only when he felt the jab of the tongue in his hole that Harry jumped forward again and he was answered with angry noises from Malfoy.

Harry growled in return and gripped the sheets with his spare hand. He tried hard not to move, but his thighs to quiver in resistance.

The tongue pushed further in and Harry groaned into the pillow that his face was currently resting on. The feeling of pulling away was no longer tormenting, instead now he wanted to push back against Malfoy’s tongue.

“Malfoy!” Harry’s fisting of his cock grew faster and he felt the sensations of the rimming shoot straight to his balls, “Malfoy!” And he couldn’t hold it back anymore. His seed shot from erection, coating his stomach and the bed with thick spurts of semen.

Malfoy groaned behind him and his tongue was removed from Harry’s arse. Harry felt him move and before he could protest, the tip of Malfoy’s erection was gliding over his lower back, the base rubbing between the very top of his arse cheeks. And then he came, warm spurts of his own come splattering on Harry’s bare back. 

Harry glanced over his shoulder at Malfoy, who was holding himself up by the grip on Harry’s hips. The blond hair was a mess, strands of it sticking to his sweaty forehead, and his pale cheeks were streaked with a splash of pink. Harry couldn’t see his eyes because his head was bent, but his mouth was open, panting as he always did when he came. Harry didn’t think he could admit it out loud, but he had never seen Malfoy look so attractive than he did now. He looked relaxed and peaceful.

“Malfoy?”

Malfoy finally looked up, a smirk growing on his lips. “How was that?” He fell on his back on the bed beside Harry.

Harry turned so he, too, was lying on his back and stared up the ceiling. He chuckled, shifting his head to gaze at Malfoy.

Malfoy turned his head as well and he joined in on the quiet laughter.

“An experience,” Harry said truthfully.

“Would you do it again?” Malfoy’s hand reached out, but Harry didn’t pull away from it. Instead, he let the long fingers touch his flushed cheek.

“Yes,” Harry admitted. Something was telling him to move closer and he did so. He shifted until he was lying on his side, his chest flushed against Malfoy’s arm.

Malfoy must have felt the same thing, because he turned on his side as well and now their chests were touching, as were their softening cocks. Malfoy reached down and grasped Harry’s thigh, raising it so Harry’s leg was wrapped around his own thigh.

Taking it as a hint, Harry moved as close as he could get, enjoying the proximity.

“What’s happening?” Harry asked quietly.

“We are growing fond of each other.” Malfoy smirked and it didn’t irk Harry like it usually did.

“Oh.” Harry didn’t really feel like asking for an explanation. He was too tired to care. He leaned forward, his lips brushing against Malfoy’s softly, before he smiled and rested his head on the pillow. “That was good.”

“You taste good,” Malfoy said with leer.

Harry flushed, but didn’t say anything else before he fell into a deep, content sleep. His last conscious sight was of Malfoy cleaning up the mess and falling asleep beside him.


	9. Chapter Nine

The next morning, Harry was nervous. He was more than nervous. It was the day that McGonagall was going to tell everyone about them and Harry knew how it was going to end. Once again, he’d be the freak, the one who walks down the hallway with everyone’s eyes following him. At least this time, he had someone else with him.

When Harry and Draco woke, there weren’t many words exchanged. There were a couple of exchanged smiles, which was pretty new to Harry when it came to Malfoy, but there were also the awkward moments when Malfoy would say something downright snarky and Harry would glare at him.

They both dressed and made their way to breakfast together. Outside the Great Hall, Harry could already hear the laughter and boisterous conversation from the students and he felt his nerves rear up to haunt him again.

“You scared or something, Potter?”

Harry snorted. “No.”

Harry could see Malfoy smirk out of the corner of his eye. There was silence between them for a moment before Malfoy finally sighed. “I’ll sit with you.”

“What?” Harry’s head jerked to the side and he frowned at Malfoy, unsure if he had heard him right. 

“Potter, you should really get your hearing checked,” he sneered in response. “I will sit with you during breakfast.”

“Why?”

“Because, just don’t argue.” Malfoy didn’t wait for Harry to say anything more. He opened the doors and stepped to the side, waiting for Harry to walk past him.

Harry stared at him in surprise, but didn’t hesitate to walk through the doors. As soon as he entered, he felt the eyes on him and it wasn’t even because of the announcement yet. It was because he was walking in with Malfoy, who seemed set on smirking at anyone that his eyes landed on. They made their way over to the Gryffindor table, where Hermione and Ron were already making room for them.

Seamus looked at Malfoy in disgust, but didn’t say anything as they took their seats.

“Malfoy,” Ron greeted with a curt nod. Malfoy replied with a nod of his own.

“Hello, Draco. How was your first night, boys?” Hermione scooped up some food on a plate and passed it to Harry. He wasn’t sure why she felt the need to treat him like a mother, but he took it anyway. He couldn’t help but notice that it was packed with food that he usually didn’t eat.

“What’s this?” Harry asked, looking from the food on the plate to Hermione.

Malfoy snickered beside him. “That, Potter, is the fibre you need for the babies.”

“What?” Harry frowned at Hermione.  
Hermione blushed and cleared her throat. “I was reading about pregnancy and well, it says you need as much fibre as you can get. With the babies on the way…” She trailed off as her eyes flicked to the head table where McGonagall stood up from her chair. Her hands were raised, signalling quiet in the room. Instantly, the students quietened.

Harry blanked her out, not wanting to hear her little speech on his and Draco’s problem. He didn’t need to hear the whispers of surprise or hear her big spiel about how special it was and how lucky they were to have such a gift.

He grabbed his fork and started to work into the food. One forkful after another was shoved into his mouth in an attempt to forget about what was happening. Malfoy glanced at him every so often, but his stare never lingered for too long.

He knew when McGonagall had finished because he felt the stares on his back. They felt like daggers, thrust into his skin and only digging deeper with a twist of the blade.  
He knew right at that moment that most of the students considered him a traitor, a turncoat who was hooking up with the former Death Eater’s son and while he wanted to spin around, to tell every single one of them to bite his arse, he kept his mouth shut. He concentrated on eating just to avoid looking around at the glares and stares of shock. Some would even be looking at him with pity, which was even worse than the anger and surprise. 

“Harry?”

Harry didn’t look up at the sound of Hermione’s voice; he didn’t even acknowledge that she spoke.

“Potter? You okay?” Malfoy leaned in close to him and his breath was hot against Harry’s ear.

“Yeah,” Harry muttered, dropping the fork. It clattered against the plate, so loud that it vibrated through the deathly silent room.

“You look pale,” Malfoy continued. He hooked his finger around some of Harry’s hair and pulled it out of his face. Harry assumed it was so he could see him properly. “Want to get out of here?”

“Yeah,” Harry repeated. As he stood, he noticed Seamus (who was sitting on the other side of him) leaned away, as though he was afraid that he would accidently touch Harry as he stood. Harry glared at him and huffed, stepping over the long wooden seat.

Malfoy snorted and wrapped his hand around Harry’s upper arm. Harry didn’t stop him; he let Malfoy lead him out of the Great Hall.

“Did you eat enough?”

“Yeah,” Harry whispered, “But you didn’t eat at all.” He was worried about Malfoy, which was a whole new set of emotions for him.

“Aw, do you care about me, Potter?”

As soon as they walked out of the doors and away from the open doors, Harry halted their pace and grabbed Malfoy’s arm. When Malfoy turned to look at him, he sighed. “Malfoy, what’s happening to us?”

Malfoy frowned at him. “What do you mean?”

“Yes, I do care and I’m starting to feel thingsfor you.” It was hard to explain it to him. It was even harder to understand his own feelings.

Malfoy seemed to understand though because he nodded, “Yeah.”

“Yeah?” Harry raised an eyebrow. He heard the shuffle in the Great Hall and realized that it was nearly time for classes. Students would be walking out of the door soon, moving towards their morning subjects.

“Potter, I’ve told you this more times than I can count. Incubi mates are chosen based on the attraction between the Incubus and his mate. The Incubi attraction method means that the Incubus and his mate are pretty damn close to feeling something for each other, which means feelings are going to bite you in the arse when you aren’t looking.”

Harry licked his lips nervously. “Do you…?”

“Yes, Potter, I’m starting to feel the same things as you are,” Malfoy grimaced, “Why do you think I licked your arse last night? I told you I’d never do it to Blaise, doesn’t that tell you something?”

Harry opened his mouth, but snapped his jaw shut again. He hesitated, unsure what he should say to that. Last night had been an experience for him and it was hard to admit even to himself that he wanted to do it again, with Malfoy.

The doors to the Great Hall opened and students walked out. Some halted as soon as they saw Draco and Harry, watching in shock as the two boys talked. Harry sighed. This was when the staring was going to start.

“I guess I better get to class,” Harry murmured.

“Yeah,” Malfoy smirked, he raised his voice and said, “no one better touch you without my permission, Potter, I don’t want to have to rip anyone’s hands off.” With a wink, Malfoy walked towards the crowd and joined up with some of the Slytherins that strode out, Theo included.

Harry laughed and smiled at Theo, before he moved to the side of the hall, waiting for Ron. He didn’t have to wait long before he, Ron and Hermione were making their way to their first class.

“Mate, you should have seen their faces: hilarious. So many of the girls were jealous, I could see it. I heard some muttering about how you weren’t good enough for an Incubus, even Malfoy,” Ron cackled.

Harry rolled his eyes. “Wow, thanks Ron, now I feel loved.” He shifted his bag on his shoulder and smiled.

“I’m serious, mate, the birds will be glaring daggers at you for months,” Ron continued, ignoring the exasperated stare that his girlfriend gave him.

“Ronald, now you are just being sexist. A lot of the boys are jealous too, you know? Dominant Incubi blood is rare and powerful so they all want to be Malfoy,” Hermione argued, huffing angrily.  
“Yeah, but they aren’t jealous of Harry, are they? The girls are.” Ron jumped away from Hermione, as though he was expecting a slap of some kind and stood on the other side of Harry. He laughed. “Come on, Mione, you know it’s true.”

Hermione seemed like she was hesitating before she grinned and shook her head. “Alright, yes. A lot of the girls aren’t happy that the one Incubus born in our time happened to hook up with a male, Harry Potter no less.”

“Let me guess,” Harry joined in on Ron’s laughter, “they were whinging about how everything happens to Harry Potter.”

“How did you guess, mate?” Ron slapped him on the shoulder, but was rewarded with a hiss of warning from Hermione. Ron’s hand snapped back quickly. “Bloody hell, sorry!”

Harry sighed. “Malfoy isn’t around.”

“But that doesn’t mean he won’t have people run back to him to let him know, Harry. He will put Ron’s head on a platter if he heard about him touching you. I mean, it’s one thing if it was a female who touched you, but a male is worse,” Hermione shook her head and sighed.

“Eight months. Eight bloody months is how long I have to put up with this no touching rule,” Harry growled, “I don’t know if I can take it. I think I will end up killing him first.”

“I know, Harry,” Hermione smiled sadly, “but you will understand soon. You will. Your own instincts will set in and you will understand everything.”

“I don’t think I want to understand, Hermione. Why does this happen to me?” Harry ran a hand through his hair. He wondered if there was someone, somewhere, who had set on making his life hell. 

“Because you’re the Boy Who Lived?” Ron offered with a grin. It quickly disappeared when Hermione glared at him.

“Harry, you have to start looking at this in a positive light,” Hermione reprimanded softly.

Harry just nodded. He didn’t want to talk about it any longer. He gazed in front of him and started to walk quicker. He hated the looks he was getting and he wanted to avoid them as much as possible. As he neared the room, he stopped at the sight of Justin standing awkwardly near the door.

“Justin?” Harry frowned, “You’re not in this class.”

“I know.” Justin didn’t smile at Harry; he just licked his lips nervously and took a step towards him. “I wish you would have told me.”

Harry snorted. “And what would that have done? It doesn’t change this situation, Justin.”

“I would have understood.” Justin glanced behind him, most likely at Hermione and Ron, before he sighed. “I thought you were being a selfish git. I thought you were a wanker for going off with some other guy without breaking off our little agreement first. I didn’t…I didn’t know you had no choice.”

Harry couldn’t explain why the words angered him. All he knew was that suddenly he was irritated at what the other man said. His fists clenched and he glared. “I had a bloody choice,” he snapped angrily, “There was something there before Malfoy and I shagged, it’s the only way the Incubus song would work on me. It’s not like he raped me, Justin.”

“I never said –”

“Piss off, you bloody pillock.”

Harry pushed past Justin with a rough shoulder bump. He stormed into the classroom and took his seat. Hermione and Ron followed him, but they didn’t say a word. They were smarter than to try and start a conversation with Harry when he was irritated.

***

Two months passed swiftly. It had been much like the first month when it came to Malfoy. They were indifferent towards each other and while they had slept in the same bed, there wasn’t much happening in there except for rim jobs, blowjobs (Harry finally gave in and sucked Malfoy’s cock again) and wanking sessions. It happened more regularly than the usual Wednesday and Saturday night and some of it hadn’t been because of Malfoy.

It was only in the second month that Harry noticed that he started to want it. He wanted to be on his knees, sucking Malfoy’s cock, and he wanted to have his arse in the air, having Malfoy lick his arsehole. He couldn’t quite explain it, but the need always seemed to send sharp spikes of horniness down his body and straight to his cock.

Madame Pomfrey had told them that it was all part of an Incubi mate’s own instincts and while horniness was something that happened in normal pregnancy, an Incubi’s mate usually had a stronger sense of need.

So in the last two months that passed, it was Harry who instigated the sexual touching. Not that Malfoy complained.

Harry sighed as he looked into the mirror. He turned to the side, examining the small swell that was observable in his stomach region. When he had first noticed it, he had been with Hermione. She had asked to see his stomach and while he wondered why, he allowed her to look. She had been the one to point it out and it ended with Harry nearly bursting into tears – which he didn’t, which was more than he could say for Hermione, who tried to cover them by ‘blowing her nose because she had a cold.’ Now every morning, after using the toilet and showering, he would walk into the room, stare into the mirror and gawk at the bump that was forming. 

Today was just another one of those days. He ran his hands over it, feeling the small swell and sighed. He was going to get bigger quite quickly, he knew this, and he wasn’t so sure that he liked the idea. Carrying one baby looked hard enough – he saw it in the pregnancy books that Hermione stacked his arms with – but two babies? That seemed so much harder.

“Potter, what are you doing?”

Harry jumped, hastily pushing down his shirt. He spun on his heel to look at Malfoy, who stood by the door with a smirk on his face. Harry flushed and cleared his throat.

“I was just…”

“It’s okay, Potter, I noticed it two weeks ago.” Malfoy shrugged his shoulders and sauntered into the room. He stepped in front of Harry and stared down at the now hidden bump.

“You didn’t say anything to me,” Harry huffed and crossed his arms.

“With your mood swings?” Malfoy snorted and laughed. “You would have assumed that I was calling you fat and you would have hit me with the killing curse.”

“I would not have!” He knew that his protest was weak and he sighed. He turned to look back into the mirror and once again, pulled his shirt up to look at his belly. “I’m going to get fat.”

His eyes were focused on his belly, so even in the mirror he didn’t see Malfoy step up behind him and wrap his arms around his waist. Malfoy’s hands rested on his belly, caressing the expanded skin softly. Harry stood still, unsure how to react to the loving gesture. Having Malfoy’s hands on him felt good and the babies seemed to like it because it soothed the growing nausea. 

Malfoy rested his head on Harry’s shoulder and when Harry’s gaze rose, he met his eyes in the mirror. Malfoy wasn’t smirking or sneering like he expected, he was smiling. It was a small smile, but even Harry could see the happiness in it.

“Potter…” Malfoy licked his lips and opened his mouth as though he was going to say something, but hastily shut it again. The usual smirk was playing on his lips again and he loosened his hold on Harry and took a step back.

Harry turned and stared at Malfoy. He wondered if he was going to finish what he started, but with a final short, curt nod, Malfoy walked into the bathroom.

Harry sighed. He felt like they were going nowhere. Two months ago, he would have told everyone that that was what he expected because there wasn’t anything between them. Lately, Harry thought otherwise. There was something there, even if he couldn’t explain it, but it felt like Malfoy refused to explore it. It was like he didn’t want to admit to himself that it was true and considering it was Malfoy who said they should try, Harry found it strange.

He didn’t ponder on it for too long. Harry tidied up his clothes and slipped into his robe, before he left for the Great Hall.

Hermione and Ron were already waiting for him with smiles. They were sitting apart from everyone else, but they had been since McGonagall’s announcement. No one wanted to risk being anywhere near Harry, mainly because of the hazard of touching him and being maimed from an angry Incubus. Ginny, Seamus and Dean sometimes chose to sit with them, but it depended on the day. This time, it seemed they were too busy talking to some seventh years.

Harry plopped down on the seat and sighed.

“What happened?” Hermione asked tenderly. Since she pointed out the bump, she had taken on a role as a mother figure to greater lengths. Harry wasn’t sure who was getting more excited about these babies, her or Harry or even Ron, who treated Harry like he was made of china. He offered to carry Harry’s bag way too often.

“Malfoy is being Malfoy,” Harry grumbled, smiling at Ron when his best friend offered him a plate full of food. He took it and jabbed his fork with food, pushing it into his mouth.

“What did he do this time?” Hermione asked again, closing the pregnancy book she had in her hands and setting it aside.

“He did something…you know!” Harry didn’t even think he could say it.

“Affectionate?” Hermione offered with a grin.

“Yes! He did something and then ran off again, like he realized what he did and didn’t like it.” Harry shoved more food into his mouth, grumbling incoherently around his mouthful of bacon.

“Harry, this is just as hard for him as it is for you. You have hated each other for how many years? And now you are having twins together. He’s trying to understand his attraction and feelings towards you and then deal with his fatherly instincts towards his unborn children. It’s perfectly normal for him to feel conflicted,” Hermione explained.

Ron nodded furiously in agreement as he swallowed his bite of a kipper. “And his Incubi instincts will be going wild too. He’d want to protect you by any means possible and as your pregnancy progresses, his protectiveness of you with only grow stronger, mate. It’s got to be hard, you know? Dealing with those instincts when your mate is Harry bloody Potter; you have a price on your head, mate.”

Harry’s eyebrows rose as he stared at Ron. Hermione seemed just as surprised as he was because she was looking at her boyfriend with in astonishment. 

When Ron finally noticed their looks, he shrugged. “If you grew up in a Pureblood family, you were taught all this stuff.”

“Why are you so understanding towards Malfoy, Ron?” Harry asked in curiosity.

He snorted. “It doesn’t mean I like the git. He’s still an arse, but he’s an arse that’s going through something tough, you know? It has to be hard, right?”

“Yeah…” Harry’s gaze flicked up when the Great Hall doors opened. It wasn’t Malfoy like he expected.

“What have you bought him for Christmas?” Hermione leaned in closer. Her question made Harry frown. He forgot how close Christmas was and while had he already thought out presents for his friends, he hadn't even thought about what to get Malfoy.

“Nothing,” Harry answered pathetically.

Hermione huffed. “Well, you’re going to have to start thinking about it, Harry, it’s only five days until Christmas, you know?”

“Yeah, but what do you buy someone who already has everything?” Harry picked at his food with his fork and sighed. He didn’t even know where to begin when it came to Malfoy. It wasn’t like he knew the blond haired git, even if he had lived with him for two months. However, he did seem to read a lot. “A book? He reads a lot.”

“Really?” His words had piqued Hermione’s interest. “What does he read?”

Harry tried to think about what books he had saw in Malfoy’s hand. They varied from week to week and he had never really paid attention to them much. “Well, there was this potion book he was reading last week.” He shrugged his shoulders.

“He seems to really like Potions, doesn’t it?” Hermione commented. She stroked her chin in thought.

“Yeah, because Snape let him get away with things in Potions, didn’t he?” Ron grumbled. He bit down on his kipper and crunched noisily on it.

“Ron, whether you care to admit it or not, Malfoy is good at Potions; I would not be surprised if he chose to find a career in the Apothecary business.” She huffed at him.

Harry shook his head at his best friends and looked towards the door again. He looked up just in time to see Malfoy step through the large doors. He looked freshly bathed and as perfectly dressed as always. He strode towards the Gryffindor table like he did every morning, and sat down beside Harry.

“Granger, Weasley.” His greeting towards Harry’s friends was always the same. It wasn’t said in complete friendliness, but it was far from rude as well.

“Hello, Draco, how did you sleep?” Hermione smiled widely.

Malfoy didn’t look up from buttering his toast. “Fine, yourself?”

He didn’t really want to know, he showed that much. However, Hermione always answered anyway. “I’m great, thank you. It’s a beautiful morning. A little chilly though.” She cocked her head towards Harry. “Harry, you need new jumpers. Yours are terrible and it’s winter now.”

“I completely agree, Granger,” Malfoy cut in before Harry could retort. “This weekend Potter and I will be going shopping.”

“Malfoy –”

“Don’t argue with me.” Malfoy glanced at Harry with an irritated stare. It was the only thing that stopped Harry from arguing. There was something about the stare – a confliction of emotions – that surprised Harry.

Harry didn’t say anything. The squawking of owls made him stare up at the ceiling and smile. After Hedwig’s death, he chose not to get a new owl, at least not yet. It felt like a betrayal and he couldn’t quite bring himself to find a new companion. So instead, he chose to use the school owls.

One of the owls flying around in particular was white and beautiful and it hurt to look at the beautiful bird because it looked so much like Hedwig. It was this owl that flew towards Harry and it broke his heart when it landed in front of them. It held out it’s leg to Harry and hesitantly, he undid the package that came with it. He fed the owl it’s treat, before it flew off.

“Harry? Are you alright?” Hermione’s worried voice broke through his haze. 

He nodded hastily and reached towards the package that was wrapped in brown paper. His fingers pulled at it, but as soon as he opened it a fraction, black smoke poured out of the paper, twirling in the air in front of him. Before he knew what was happening, someone grabbed him from the chair and he was spun around. A larger body was covering his and from the scent of the other person, he knew it was Malfoy. There were screams and yells of help and then Malfoy and Harry were jolted forward. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the black smoke hit Malfoy in the back. Malfoy didn’t scream, but he grunted loudly in pain and then dropped to the floor, unconscious.

Hermione had her wand out, yelling something, and the smoke disappeared into her wand. Harry’s surroundings were unfocused. He didn’t care what Hermione or Ron was doing and he didn’t care who was yelling. All he cared about was dropping to floor; tears forming in his eyes as he reached for the unconscious man on the floor. His hands grabbed at Malfoy’s chest and he tugged at his Incubus. All he knew was that his voice was hoarse and broken and he begged, quietly, for Malfoy to wake up. He wasn’t waking though.

He felt a spell hit him in the back and his world went black.

***

When he finally came to, Hermione and Ron were sitting by his bed, smiling sadly.

“What happened?” Harry asked, grimacing at the sound of his own voice.

“Someone tried to hex you through the mail,” Hermione said softly, her own eyes watery. “Malfoy protected you.”

“Malfoy…where is he?” He didn’t wait for an answer. He was on his feet before Hermione and Ron even stood from their chairs. He walked down the ward, unfocused on where he was going. He could hear Hermione and Ron calling out his name, they were obviously following him, but he didn’t pay attention to them.

There was a room to the left and Harry knew he had to be in there. He could sense him. He burst through the door.

Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy already sat beside their son’s bed. As soon as the door opened, their eyes shot up and their wands were in their hands in a quick second. After seeing that it was Harry who entered though, only Mrs. Malfoy returned her wand to her robe.

“Harry…” She stood, reaching out to touch him.

He avoided her touch and made his way straight over to the bed. He didn’t know what compelled him to crawl in beside Malfoy, but he slithered his way into the covers and wrapped his arm around his abdomen. His head rested on the shoulder of the unconscious man.

“Harry?” Mrs. Malfoy smiled sadly, just as Hermione and Ron had done before.

“Is he okay?” Harry murmured quietly, closing his eyes and breathing in the scent of his Incubus – the father of his children.

“They don’t know,” she answered just as quietly.

“Who did it?” He was going to kill them for what they’ve done. He fisted Malfoy’s shirt, holding on desperately to him.

“We don’t know.” Mr. Malfoy spoke this time. His voice betrayed the same anger that Harry felt. “It was aimed at you, Potter. A Death Eater after revenge, we assume. The hex was a very dangerous one. It slowly kills a person by eating them inside outside.”

“Do you think telling him that will help?”

Harry knew that voice. Hermione was furious.

“He needs to know the truth. There is very little chance for Draco.”

Harry understood Mr. Malfoy. He understood his anger and he understood the pain that was barely audible in the voice. If he hadn’t grown use to Draco’s voice, he would have missed it in Mr. Malfoy’s. They were alike in a lot of ways.

“Can he fight it?” Harry swallowed the bile that rose in his throat.

“Yes.” Mrs. Malfoy’s hand touched Harry’s shoulder. He didn’t push it away, it was comforting. “It’s very hard to do and very few wizards are able to do it, but he can.”

“I want him to,” Harry choked as the tears started to leak from his closed eyelids. He felt them trail down his face. “I want him back. He can’t die; he’s the father of my children.”

He heard a sob in the corner of the room and he knew it was Hermione.

“He’s strong, Harry, so strong.” Mrs. Malfoy’s voice was a tad quieter than usual and it sounded as though she was trying to reassure herself as well. “He has you and your children. He will come through this.”

Harry didn’t say anything else. He just hung on to Malfoy tightly and refused to let go. He let sleep take him.

It had been three days of nothing. No matter how tightly he held his Incubus, no matter how much he pressed Malfoy’s hand to his swelling stomach and no matter how much he begged Malfoy to wake, he didn’t.

He had many visitors, from Theo and Blaise to Justin and Ginny, all wishing Malfoy to health. It was hard to try and stay strong and it was even harder to hold onto hope. Harry hardly left the room other to shower and use the loo. Hermione brought him in pregnancy and Incubi books and it only took him a day to read through them all. McGonagall even set up private tutoring sessions in Malfoy’s room and while he had tried his hardest to pay attention, it was too difficult. Pomfrey tried various things on Malfoy, but none of them worked. She tried to reason that his body was fighting against the hex, but Harry wasn’t so sure anymore.

“Mate?” Ron’s head darted through the open door and he looked into the room. “Hey.”

Harry tried to smile, but even that was tough. This morning he felt particularly ill. He had eaten; he had been forced to every time it was breakfast, lunch and dinner over the last three days, and every time he had, he felt the nausea rising. Today, however, it was so much worse. He felt like he was on the edge of passing out.

“Hey,” Harry greeted in a small voice.

“You okay? You don’t look well.” Ron reached out to touch Harry, but Harry shook his head to stop him. Ron nodded in understanding. “How is he doing?”

“Not any better than yesterday or the day before,” Harry answered with a sigh. He reached out to grip the cold, lifeless hand in his own. “Do you think he’ll be okay?”

“‘Course he will be, mate. He’s Malfoy, isn’t it? Born to make your life hell; he’ll be back to normal in no time and you’ll wonder why you even wanted the git back.” 

Harry tried to laugh at Ron’s joke, but it came out small and unsure. “This is bollocks, Ron. That curse was for me and–”

“You’re not going to start one of your self-pitying tirades, are you?” Ron crossed his arms angrily.

“No…” However, not even Harry could pretend that he wasn’t. His best friend knew him too well. 

“Mate, Malfoy jumped in front of you for a reason. You’re carrying his children and you are his mate. He was being a good father. Probably the most courageous thing he’s ever done in his life.”

Harry snorted. If he could say something about this little situation, it did prove what a good father Malfoy would be. He cared which was more than what Harry could say for some fathers.

“I want him awake.” Harry shook his head. “I don’t care if he’s his usual git self, I just want him back.”

“Who would have thought, huh?” Ron smiled. He walked closer to the bed and patted Malfoy’s hand with fast and awkward touches. “You better wake up before Christmas, Malfoy, or I’ll castrate you, you got that?”

Harry actually chuckled at that. “Please don’t. I hear Incubi need their manhood.”

Ron laughed loudly. “Well, it would save you from getting knocked up with more of Malfoy’s children, wouldn’t it?”

Harry snorted and nodded. “I forgot it was two days until Christmas.”

Ron nodded in sympathy. “Yeah, we assumed you might have. Hermione bought you something to give to Malfoy when he wakes.”

Harry smiled. He rose from his chair and threw his arms around Ron’s neck, burying his face in the expanse of skin on his friend’s neck. “Thanks mate.”

Ron patted his back awkwardly. “Yeah, you’re welcome.”

It was only when Harry pulled back that he felt the embarrassment of his actions roll over him. He flushed. “Sorry, Ron, I just…”

“Yeah! Yeah, of course.” Ron laughed nervously. He scratched the back of his neck. “The whole pregnancy hormones thing, I get it.”

Harry didn’t know if that was the reason why he hugged Ron, but he nodded in agreement anyway. There was no other way of explaining it. He sat down in his chair once more and rested his hand on the bed.

The bed squeaked and Harry’s eyes darted to the cot. Malfoy didn’t seem to have moved – his eyes were still shut tightly and he still lay on his back, but Harry was positive his hand had moved. No longer was it lifeless, but it was closer to Harry’s, as though he was reaching out to try and hold his hand.

“Ron…did you…?”

“I heard it, yeah.” Ron took a step closer. “Malfoy, you awake?”

There was no answer.

“Could we have been imagining it?” Harry asked, the hope was quickly turning rancid inside of his stomach until it was no longer optimism, but a new bout of nausea.

“No,” Ron shook his head furiously. “Harry…” He walked towards Harry and grasped his shoulders, pulling him out of the chair. Ron’s arms wrapped around Harry’s waist, bringing his swollen stomach and chest flushed against Ron’s.

“Ron!”

“Trust me, mate.” 

Harry opened his mouth to retaliate when a growl reverberated around the room. Harry pushed at Ron’s chest and spun on his heel, eyes wide at the sight of bleary eyed Malfoy glaring daggers at Harry’s best friend. 

“Malfoy!” Harry didn’t know what possessed him, but he strode over to the bed and threw his arms around the half-conscious man. Malfoy caught him with a _umph_ and accompanied with an incoherent mumble, his arms encircled Harry as well. 

“I thought you were dead.”

Malfoy said something again, but his voice was too quiet and gruff for Harry to understand.

“Drink this, Malfoy.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw Ron pass him a glass of water. Harry tried to pull away to give him room to drink, but Malfoy’s hands on tightened their hold around his waist. Malfoy brought the cup to his lips and sipped the water timidly before he quickly handed it back to Ron.

“Malfoy?” Harry pressed his face into Malfoy’s neck, breathing in his scent.

“Weasley…” Malfoy moved his head, but Harry couldn’t see what he was looking at. His face was too far pressed into his neck. “If-f you touch my mate again-again, I will rip off your head.” His voice sounded raspy.

Harry actually chuckled at the threat. “Glad to have you back, Malfoy.”

Ron cleared his throat. “I think…I think I might just leave.”

“I think that’s a good idea,” Malfoy snapped. It was a little hard to hear him, but his intent was clear.

Harry pulled back and turned to smile softly at Ron. Ron looked nervous as he nodded and started backing out towards the door. 

“I’ll see you later, mate.”

“Thank you, Ron.” It was his best friend, after all, that realized what could wake Malfoy up. It was weird, for Malfoy to wake from consciousness when he felt threatened in losing his mate to another man.

Ron nodded and slipped out of the door.

Malfoy groaned and pressed a hand to his chest. He sounded like he was having trouble breathing. Harry reached over to massage the skin, right where his heart will be. Malfoy closed his eyes and moaned.

“You okay, git?” Harry licked his lips.

“Fine,” he breathed in deeply, “Scared, Potter?”

Harry grunted. “No; just waiting for your lazy arse to wake up. Had a nice sleep then?”

Malfoy opened his eyes and smirked at Harry. He reached out, his hand slipping under Harry’s shirt to caress the skin of his belly. “They okay?”  
Harry couldn’t help the small lopsided smile that slid onto his lips, “Fine because of you.”

“I think this is the moment where you thank me, Potter.” Malfoy raised an eyebrow. He pressed his palm flat against Harry’s swollen stomach, his hand rubbing the expanded skin. The nausea that stirred in his stomach soothed.

Harry pursed his lips to stop the smile from growing. “Now why would I do that? I can handle myself, Malfoy.”

Malfoy snorted. “You have proven otherwise, Potter.” His gray eyes scanned Harry’s face. He looked solemn as he continued to speak, “Really though, you okay?”

The concern in his voice surprised Harry. He smiled none the less. “Fine,” He licked his lips. “Thank you, Malfoy.” His voice was soft and unsure. 

Malfoy nodded sharply and looked around the room as though he was uncertain what to say next. He didn’t need to find anything to say anyway, not when his parents slammed open the door.

Mrs. Malfoy rushed forward and as Harry made a move to shift out of the way, Malfoy grasped his arm and brought him against his chest. Something inside of Harry told him it was because to Malfoy, he nearly lost his family. His family would have been poisoned if he had not jumped in front of Harry.

So he let Malfoy hold him against his chest. He shifted to get more comfortable before resting his head on a warm, bare chest. He could feel his heartbeat – a slow, rhythmic sound that vibrated through his chest – and Harry didn’t think he’d ever heard something so beautiful. It was hard to admit even to himself how great it was to have Malfoy awake again.

“Draco.” Mrs. Malfoy smiled tenderly as she reached out to run her fingers over her son’s forehead. “Mr. Weasley told us you were awake.”

“Mother,” Malfoy closed his eyes under his mother’s touch. Harry could relate, Mrs. Weasley was the perfect mother figure and there was nothing better than a mother’s soothing touch.

“I was afraid for you,” she murmured. Her blue eyes darted to Harry – she gave him a smile – before the rested back on her son’s face. “So was your mate.”

Harry didn’t deny her statement. It was not only the truth, but to deny it would have been rude of his behalf.

“Of course he was.” Harry didn’t need to look at Malfoy to see the smirk on his face.

Mr. Malfoy snorted. “Good to see that you are well, Draco.”

“Well? I would hardly call myself well, father. I feel like I have a hole in my chest,” Malfoy sneered back at his father.

“Better than what you could be,” was the retort in the same sneering tone. Like father, like son. Harry grunted at the thought. “Problem, Potter?”

“No.” Harry glanced at Mr. Malfoy out of the corner of his eye. He looked weary, as though he hadn’t slept much. He had bags under his eyes and his hair was a mess, which was certainly unusual for a Malfoy. He looked paler than usual and even his voice dripped with fatigue. “You okay, Mr. Malfoy?”

He looked shocked at Harry’s question, “Fine.”

“We have been busy,” Mrs. Malfoy answered with a smile, “We are researching any possible suspects for your attack, Harry. They must be found as soon as possible.”

“Any leads?” 

Harry shivered when he felt the hot breath against his face as he looked up into the irritated face of his Incubus. Apparently, he wanted revenge.

“We have a couple,” Mrs. Malfoy replied quietly. “But do not worry yourself, Draco, we will sort this out. No one threatens family.”

Harry smiled his thanks. He wasn’t quite sure what to say to something like that yet. It was all new to him.

“Now Harry, you are coming to my Valentine’s ball, yes? Draco never gave me an answer.” Mrs. Malfoy reached over to pat his arm.

Harry stared at her in horror. Not only had he forgotten all about the ball, he was dreading the thought of going. He could not dance to save his life. It was in two months and he hadn’t even thought about it since Draco first mentioned it. “Mrs. Malfoy…”

“Costume, I assume?” She chuckled. “No problem. I will have our seamstress create one for you from the finest material. It will be all ready for you by the time February comes around. Draco will bring you to the Manor on the day and I will help you look your best, yes?”

Harry gulped any remaining moisture in his mouth. He tried to smile, he really did, but he suspected that it looked forced.

“And I believe you should visit the Manor for Christmas. Wouldn’t that be lovely?” Mrs. Malfoy continued with a smile of excitement.

“But Christmas is in two days, Mother. What if I’m too sore and ill for that?” Draco whined.

“Oh hush, Draco. Madame Pomfrey will give you a few replenishing potions and you will be as good as new.” She smiled down at him lovingly. “And we are so happy you are back with us, My Little Dragon.”

“Mother!” Draco’s cheeks tinged pink and he glared at his mother. “Don’t call me that.”

Harry couldn’t help but laugh at the image Malfoy made. “Little Dragon?” He teased with more laughter.

Malfoy glowered at him, “If you mention that to anyone, Potter, I will make you live to regret it.”

Harry raised his head. He couldn’t help but lean up and pressed a light kiss to his Incubi’s jaw. Even Malfoy seemed surprised by the gesture, “If you say so, Little Dragon.”

Malfoy growled loudly.

Mr. Malfoy even chuckled. “I’ll go get that nutty bat of a nurse.”

“Lucius!”


	10. Chapter Ten

Harry looked at himself in the mirror and resisted the urge to close his eyes and groan. He looked…well…he looked like only a Malfoy would look in their fancy clothes. It was hard to believe how quickly a month and a half had gone. 

Christmas had been a wonderful affair, with Harry spending Christmas Eve and Christmas Day at the Malfoy Manor. Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy had been polite and had even bought Harry presents along with Draco’s own. Harry had admitted to Draco in shame that he hadn’t been the one to buy the book that Harry gave him, a book that Draco clearly loved, but Draco waved him off. He surprised Harry by telling him that they’d be spending plenty more Christmases together and not to worry about it.

“You look wonderful, darling.” Mrs. Malfoy tugged at the robe, swiped her hand over it and smiled into the mirror at Harry.

“I look like a Pureblood, Mrs. Malfoy,” he grumbled.

Mrs. Malfoy laughed. “That would be the point, Harry. You are to become a Malfoy, after all. And how many times must I tell you? It’s Narcissa. You are carrying my grandchildren, after all.”

Harry nodded. In the last month and half, things had been shaping up once more. 

After Pomfrey practically force-fed Malfoy replenishing potions before Christmas, they were sent back to their rooms. It had been straight back to normal, with Malfoy being his reserved self and Harry being Harry. There was only one difference, however. That night when Harry looked at his baby bump in the mirror like he had done every night before someone tried to hex him; Malfoy had walked over to him and dropped to his knees. Even the sight of Malfoy being there surprised Harry, but when the blond pressed a kiss to his bare stomach it had left Harry speechless. Of course, he was on his feet again and walking away before Harry could find words.

This morning had been quiet though. Malfoy didn’t say anything to him and it was times like that that made Harry wonder if they were making progress or not. Malfoy reacted to his children just fine, but communicating with Harry was a whole new topic. He had even discussed it with Narcissa when Malfoy brought him to the Manor. She had laughed and said that he was only trying to process his own emotions.

“Thinking again?”

Harry sighed and met Narcissa’s eyes in the mirror. “Do you think he’ll know it’s me?” The mask he wore was much different from anything he had seen before. It was an emerald green and only covered half of his face. It wasn’t donned in feathers like Narcissa’s was, but curved lines of silver snakes curled around the shape of the mask until it reached the snakes’ head, which was drawn near his eyes and pointing outward. It looked very Slytherin, but he wasn’t going to protest. She even rid him of his glasses, buying him contacts. She had promised him that he would only have to wear them for tonight.

Narcissa laughed quietly. “Yes. Not only would your very belly give it away, but he will be able to sense you and his children.”

“Oh.” Harry frowned. That just sucked the fun out of it.

“You look handsome, Harry.”

Harry glanced at her through the mirror again and smiled at her thankfully. “Thank you.”

“My son will not know what hit him when you walk through those doors.” She puffed out her dress and smoothed down the material on her stomach. It wasn’t like she needed to, she looked perfect.

“I’m sure you’ll overshadow me,” Harry laughed. Even her mask looked like it was expensive enough to cost as much as a house.

“Not to my son,” she winked, “no one can overshadow you when it comes to him. You’re the only one that matters.”

Harry felt his face heat up. He cleared his throat and took a step back from the mirror, who finally decided to hum in approval.

“Looking good, Sonny, if I was a wizard, I’d eat you all up.”

Harry grimaced at the mirror’s words. The damn thing was scary. Narcissa must have agreed before she spelled a sheet to lay over it.

“I never did like that mirror. It belonged to Lucius’ grandfather…” She frowned, hesitating as though she was unsure whether she should continue or not. “He used to like younger men. He’d take them into his dungeons and have his way with them.”

Harry’s eyes widened. “Oh.” He was disgusted by the thought.

“Yes. The mirror seems to have taken up his personality.” She grimaced before gesturing him towards the door. Harry nodded hurriedly and practically ran out of the room. He had never been happier to leave.

***

Harry took a deep breath as he walked through the doors. Music and laughter immediately filled his ears and he smiled. There was so much delight in the room, from witches laughing while they were spun by their partners as they danced, to witches gossiping with each other. Even wizards laughed with each other as they drank firewhiskey and mulled mead.

It wasn’t anything like Harry expected. The ball room was large, probably bigger than the whole of the Weasley’s house, and adorned with the finest decorations. In the centre of the room was a large dance floor, where couples waltzed in time with not only the music, but with each other. Around the dance floor, masked women and men watched – some even clapped in time with the swaying waltz – while to the left of it, a wizarding band played on their instruments. Harry took note that the lead singer, donned in dark red and white face paint and fancy clothes, was good looking. However, that was only a passing glance considering was he not only pregnant, but he was an Incubi mate. That didn’t mean that he couldn't look though.

Cupids, much like the ones Lockhart had in their second year, danced between the crowds, singing love songs of different tunes at the top of their voices. Harry watched as some wizards stopped them, pointing at pretty ladies and asking them to play a song for that chosen witch on behalf of them. The witches gushed as soon as they saw them and were almost immediately seduced. There were punch bowls and food topped high on plates and just gazing at all the delicious appetizers made Harry’s stomach rumble.

“Potter?”

Harry’s stare flicked from the food to the man that stood in front of him. He knew it was Draco – it was not hard to tell with his deep drawl and neatly styled blond hair. And Harry had to admit, he looked good. He went with modest, which was new for Malfoy – he wore simple black trousers, a basic white dress shirt that was covered in a buttoned vest. A cravat was tired around his neck and his mask was silver, with a red trimming around the edges. It had a beautiful design carved into it and it was the top half of a mask, similar to Harry’s, which meant that he saw the smug smirk that played on Malfoy’s lips.

“Malfoy,” Harry greeted with a smile.

Malfoy glanced up and down the length of his body and his smirk widened. “You actually look decent for once, Potter. Finally threw away those hideous glasses?”

Harry reached up to caress the small bulge of his belly. Even through the costume, it was visible. This told Harry that his shirt was tighter than what he would have liked it to be.

He chose to ignore the comment about his glasses. “A compliment, Malfoy, be careful. You shouldn’t let any of your friends hear you say that.” Harry chuckled and shook his head. He walked down a couple of the steps so he was the same height as Malfoy.

“Well, I thought that I should at least try, considering we will be stuck with each other for the rest of our lives.” The drawl held a tint of amusement. Malfoy held out his elbow for Harry, but Harry snorted.

“I’m not a girl, Malfoy. You can stop treating me like one.”

Malfoy shrugged. “I’m trying to be nice, Potter.” There was a moment of silence before he spoke again. “Don’t you think we should at least start calling each other by our given names, considering I knocked you up?”

Harry frowned. He never really thought about calling Malfoy by his given name. It had been a habit, so he didn’t even realize how necessary it would be to call him Draco soon. He nodded slowly in agreement. “I guess, Draco.” The name rolled off his tongue as though he was always meant to call him that. “I might slip into calling you Malfoy sometimes though. It’s a habit.”

Draco pressed his tongue into his cheek, “Although, I do like it when you shout out Malfoy when I have my tongue in your arse.”

Harry felt the blood rush to his face, heating up his cheeks. He glared at Draco. “Malfoy!”

Draco laughed and held out his hand to Harry. “Come on, Harry. Let’s dance.”

It was weird, hearing his name slip out of Draco’s mouth, especially when it wasn’t said in a mocking tone. Harry relented and slipped his hand in Draco’s. He let him lead them towards the dance floor. The closer they seemed to get to it, the faster Harry’s heart raced. He pulled on Draco’s hand, halting him from walking any closer.

“Malfoy – Draco, I can’t dance.”

Draco didn’t seem to miss a beat as he nodded and once again started to pull Harry towards the floor, where couples had stopped for a moment as they waited for the next song. Most of the couples looked up at Draco and Harry as they walked amidst them until Draco seemed to be satisfied with their spot.

“Draco, I can’t –”

“I know, Harry.” The smirk was back on his lips as his hand curved around Harry’s lower back, bringing him closer against Draco’s body. His other hand gripped Harry’s shaking palm and entwined their fingers. “Let me lead.”

“I –”

“Harry, for once in your life, give up the lead to someone else.”

Harry nodded and closed his eyes for a second. He took a deep breath as the music started playing.

“They don’t know who you are.” The words were whispered against his ear, accompanied with a warm breath against his jaw and neck. It sent shivers down Harry’s back. “Trust me.”

As the music started, Draco took the lead almost instantly. Their bodies moved in time with the other couples and even though Harry was unsure what to do, Draco guided him. It was the first time that he could remember that he actually enjoyed the dancing. Even when he was spun around and pulled flushed against the other man’s hard body, or even when his back was pressed against Draco’s chest and he let out a meep of surprise at the feel of a growing erection against his arse. After the initial shock, he took amusement in teasing Draco about growing hard just from dancing with him. He had blamed Harry for not ‘giving it up,’ which Harry took in his stride with more laughter. After some thoughts and words about McGonagall, Draco’s erection had wilted and they were back to dancing like normal.

However, it grew to the point that Harry was exhausted and they chose to sit down for a little while. His stomach growled and Draco actually had the manners to offer to go get him food. Harry couldn’t deny the temptation of eating.

“Enjoying yourself, Mr. Potter?” The drawl was familiar and when Harry turned his head to glance behind him, it wasn’t hard to recognize Lucius Malfoy, even with his full faced mask with a large, curved nose.

“I am, thank you, Mr. Malfoy.” Harry gave him the courtesy of a smile. 

“I see that.” There wasn’t any real venom dripping from his voice as he moved around the chairs to sit in one beside Harry. “My son looks happy.”

“Does he?” Harry couldn’t really tell what happiness looked like when it came to Draco.

“Yes,” Mr. Malfoy’s gaze turned from the dancing couples to look at him. He looked like he wanted to say thank you, but Harry knew him well enough to know that he wouldn’t say it. “It’s good that you are making him smile, Mr. Potter, I wouldn’t want to have to hex you.”

“He’s nice when he wants to be,” Harry shrugged his shoulders.

“My son is respectable, Mr. Potter, he takes things in his stride. He is the perfect example of a Malfoy.” The voice had grown tight.

“Maybe he shouldn’t have to be the perfect example of a Malfoy.” At a pointed stare from Mr. Malfoy, Harry continued. “Draco should only have to be a perfect example of himself. Sure, he’s a Malfoy and all of that, but he shouldn’t have to be a certain way because it’s what’s expected of a Malfoy. Sometimes, I think he’s too afraid of showing his true self, all because he has to be a proper Pureblood. Pathetic, if you ask me”

Mr. Malfoy snorted, “What would you know of it, Potter? You grew up in a house of Muggles.”

“Muggles who expected me to be a certain person,” Harry snapped angrily. It earned him a look of surprise from Mr. Malfoy. “They expected me to be this big bad wizard because I could do magic and because of that, they treated me like I was the dirt on their shoes. You know, if Draco didn’t act like a cold, self-centred pillock towards a lot of people, they would treat him better than what they do now.”

Mr. Malfoy opened his mouth to retort, but he stopped when a shadow loomed over them. Harry turned his head to find Draco towering over their sitting forms.

“What are you doing, father?” He sounded tense.

“I am having a conversation with Mr. Potter, Draco.” Mr. Malfoy stood from his seat and held out his hand towards Harry. While Harry was surprised, he slipped his hand into Mr. Malfoy’s and shook it. “Please, call me Lucius. Once you and Draco marry you will be my son-in-law, after all.”

“I…” Harry swallowed and nodded.

Lucius nodded and pivoted on his heel, stalking away from them.

“He does mean well, I suppose.” Draco handed Harry a plate of food with utensils. “Sorry. Usually mother has a dinner before a ball, but the last time she had one, people were puking everywhere. She was angrier than a hag.”

Harry chuckled at the mental image and smiled his thanks to Draco. He took the fork and instantly dug into the food.

“Any weird cravings yet?”

Harry shook his head as he chewed on the food in his mouth. “Not yet. My appetite has grown,” He paused. “How are you feeling? Any after effects of the hex?”

Draco nodded. “I’m good. I feel a lot better than I did a couple of months ago. You’re a bloody worry, Potter.”

“Me?” Harry grunted. “I wasn’t the one who was unconscious for three days.”

“No, but if I hadn’t jumped in front of you, you and our children would be dead, wouldn’t you?” He shook his head and looked at the small glass of firewhiskey in his hand. He growled and tipped both his head and the glass back, downing the alcohol in one go.

“You sure you’re okay?”

Draco didn’t answer and Harry wasn’t an idiot. He could see something was tormenting the other man.

“Draco, talk to me.” When he received no answer, he growled angrily. “You say you want to try this, Malfoy, but you can’t even talk to me. How is that supposed to work?”

Draco raised a hand to run in through his hair, he sighed and stared at the empty glass in your hand. “You have no fucking idea how terrified I was, Potter. As soon as I recognized what it was, I thought I was too late and…” His grip on the glass tightened until his knuckles were white. “I thought the bastards had killed my mate and my children.”   
Harry swallowed. He reached out to rest his hand on Draco’s shoulder, squeezing it reassuringly. “Draco, I’m fine and so are our babies and it’s because of you.” He looked away, taking the moment to regain composure. He didn’t want to end up crying in front of the other man. “You’re the one who was hurt. They were so sure you weren’t going to make it. You scared the living daylights out of me.”   
“Mother said you never left my side.” Grey eyes searched his face. Harry didn’t know what he was looking for, but it didn’t make him uncomfortable. It was the first time they really spoke about it and it was something they both needed desperately.  
“No, I didn’t. I thought if I left…you wouldn’t be there when I returned. I thought that I’d get back and Pomfrey would tell me that you had…you know, while I was gone.”   
“Died?” Draco snorted in laughter. “I’m not that easy to get rid of, Harry. I’m an Incubus, that's the only reason I survived it. You wouldn’t have, powerful or not.”  
Harry nodded. He ran his fork through his food, but didn’t pick any up. All of this talk was making him lose his appetite. “Is that what’s troubling you then? The fact that I could have died?”   
“Yeah,” Malfoy sighed, “And finding the bastards who did it; they will try something again soon. They’ll know it didn’t work.”

Harry didn’t think about that. He had been so concentrated on wishing Draco better that he hadn’t stopped to think that the perpetrators wouldn’t stop trying. The Aurors had been called in the day it happened, but they had no leads on the mail. They had explained that whoever did it was good at hiding their tracks. They had said that the Death Eaters wouldn’t try it again though, not so soon after. It hadn’t put anyone at ease. If anything, it angered both Ron and Lucius. Even Mr. Weasley had ranted about the Aurors and their obvious lack of disregard. He had stated that the only reason they didn’t care was because it was Draco who had been seriously injured. That had pissed Harry off.

Mrs. Weasley had fussed over Harry, trying to make him leave Draco’s room, but when she realized there was nothing she could do, she went home again.

“It’s okay,” Harry soothed, “I’ll be more alert this time.”

“You? Alert?” Draco laughed. “You’re Harry bloody Potter; you don’t know the meaning of alert. I have never met anyone that has been in as much danger consistently as you have.”

Harry glared, but it faltered quickly. Even he couldn’t deny that. Apparently they were a match. Draco, the snobbish git, the forced Death Eater who could and did save the Boy Who Lived’s life. And then there was Harry, the ‘golden boy,’ the forced hero who always tried to save people. Biting his lip, he sighed and set down the food on the chair next to him. “We’ve had some close calls, huh?”

“Mostly you,” Draco shook his head. “You’re a bloody worry. It’s my sort of luck to have you as a mate.”

“Did you…” Harry flushed at the very thought of his question. “You know how an Incubus and his mate have to be attracted to each other?” At Draco’s nod, he continued, “did you ever fantasize about me?”

Draco grunted at the question. Harry wasn’t sure whether he was amused or uncomfortable. He seemed to think about it before he sighed. “I only remember once or twice. It comes with the Incubi territory, you know? Being all dreams and never remembering it.”

“You mean that you could have fantasized about me in your dreams and not remember?” Harry licked his lips nervously.

“Usually that’s how it works. Same with an Incubi mate. You would have had wet dreams about me too, Potter.” Draco smirked. “Ever woken up one morning and had no idea what you dreamt about the night before, but you were so fucking hard that you felt like your cock was about to explode?”

It had happened more times than Harry could count. He had always wondered why he couldn’t remember the dream, because even when he was younger, when he first had wet dreams, he remembered it. These dreams had been different from the normal ones though – each one had felt the same as the one before, as though he was with the same person, and it had been much more intimate and passionate than any other wet dream he had ever had.

He nodded timidly.

“Yeah, that’s the Incubi dreams, had those too. There are a couple I remember, but I didn’t have them because you were my mate. I had them when I was sixteen, before my Incubus blood awoke.” Draco tried not to look uncomfortable, but Harry could tell the topic was almost…a sore one for him. “The first one I had was after you hit me with that curse. I’ve never been so turned on by your power.” He snorted. “Bit of a masochist, aren’t I?”

“Not really.” Harry was shocked, but he didn’t think Draco was a masochist for it.

“The scars…Severus said I could make them disappear, but I didn’t want to, you know? It was a reminder for me. A reminder of how bloody sexy you were when we were duelling. I wanted to throw you to the floor in that bathroom and fuck you into it. Of course, when I was hit with the spell, I was a little too occupied with the pain to think about it. It was in the hospital wing, after it happened, that I really started to think about how attracted I was to you when you were throwing hexes at me.”

“Oh.” Harry frowned. “You wanted to shag me since then?”

“While being in denial about it, I guess.” Draco stood from the chair and held out his hand to Harry. “Would you like to go for a walk?”

Harry rolled his eyes at Draco’s attempt at looking like a gentleman, but he took the hand none the less. It would seem impolite not to. A few people smiled at them as Draco led him towards the two large oak doors and out into the hallway. They had exited from a different set of doors than Harry had entered. The long corridor was darker, illuminated by candles that shimmered in the murky darkness of the hall. Portraits were asleep and even as Draco led him down the hallway, their dress shoes clicking on the ceramic tiles, the portraits never woke from their slumber. Either that or they chose to pointedly ignore the two men.

“Where are we going?” Harry asked quietly, his fingers entwining in Draco’s. He seemed determined; his pace quickening as he moved further down the corridor.

“I need you.” The desperation in his voice was clue enough for Harry.

He snorted. “You want to rut against me?”

“Yes,” Draco answered huskily. 

Harry didn’t protest. He needed to feel Draco’s body against his own – he wanted to. They didn’t exchange any more words until they reached Draco’s bedroom. Harry knew it was his bedroom because of the Quidditch posters that were pasted on the walls and the photos, including one of Zabini and Draco, arms wrapped around each other’s shoulders. He released Draco’s hand and walked closer, staring at it carefully. Harry crinkled his nose at it; it was a bad picture of Zabini. They were both wearing Quidditch uniforms and the darker male looked windswept, sweaty and a mess with his mussed clothes. Draco looked much more elegant, his clothes kept tidy and clean and his hair was still perfectly styled.

“Are you jealous?”

Harry tensed when Draco came up behind him, pale hands resting on his upper arms. “I don’t need to be.”

“No, you don’t need to be. But you worked that out a long time ago; otherwise you’d be fainting again and trying to rid yourself of our children.” Harry jumped when lips descended on his cheek, pressing lightly against his chilly skin. “You’re cold, Potter.”

“Harry,” Harry reminded quickly.

“Harry.” Draco snorted. “Sorry. Habit, you know that.”

“Yeah, I know.” Harry turned in a circle. He stared up at Draco and chuckled. “Merlin, I would never have imagined a couple of years ago that this would happen.”

Draco laughed as well. “Yeah, I would have found you and hexed you just to prove a point, I think.”

Harry ran his fingers along Draco’s jaw, caressing the skin. His eyes rose to meet Draco’s and he sighed. “Malfoy…Draco.” He swallowed and glanced at the bed. Thoughts of Draco lying of top of him, snogging him senseless while shagging him into the mattress filled his head. He could still feel Draco’s hands on him, like he had when he had rutted against him, and he could feel the breath on his skin. And he wanted it. He wanted everything Draco could offer him. It wasn’t like he was a virgin and he didn’t hate the other man enough to deny him the pleasure any more.

Harry took a deep breath as he stared at Draco again. “I want you to shag me.”

Draco’s eyes immediately widened. “What?”

“Unless you don’t want to,” Harry teased. He smirked as he glanced at the bed pointedly.

“You actually want to shag?” Draco pressed his tongue against his cheek and raised an eyebrow. He took a step towards Harry, his eyes wickedly gliding over his body, from top to bottom. 

“Yeah, I do.” Harry proved his point by reaching up to slip off his dress robes. His vest was next until he stood in only his dress shirt and trousers. It was only then that he remembered his pregnant belly and embarrassment flooded his senses, taking over the desire that had rushed through his body. He flushed and reached for his robe again, but Draco grasped his hand. He brought it up to his lips, kissing the fingers, one by one.

“Harry, I don’t care about your belly. I think it makes you even more shaggable. You’re carrying my children.” He released Harry’s hand and reached up, his dexterous fingers undoing the buttons to Harry’s shirt. His gaze never left Harry’s and his lips were upturned in a smile. When he reached the bottom button, he slipped it off his shoulders. “Beautiful, Potter; more beautiful than anyone I’ve ever met.”

Harry wanted to mock him, tease Draco about his soft attitude, but the words were caught in his throat. He couldn’t say it, not when the blond was looking at him the way he was, lust and adoration shining in those stormy grey eyes. So Harry just sent him a wavering smile. 

Fingers ran down Harry’s chest, caressing the skin, and tracing around his sensitive nipples and down over his small, expanded stomach. He pressed his palm against the side of the bulge.

Harry cleared his throat to stop a moan escaping and reached down to grab Draco’s hand, pressing it to the growing erection in his pants. “Just shag me, Malfoy.”

Draco smirked, his eyes darkening in lust as he reached forward, wrapping his long arms around Harry and leading him backwards. Harry fell on the bed and scrambled across the mattress so he laid in the middle. He watched Draco under hooded eyes.

Draco’s fingers worked on his own clothes, starting with his cravat and then removing his vest and shirt. His fingers strayed near his trousers button teasingly, before he undid it and pushed them down, stepping out of them. All Draco wore then was his pants and the sight had Harry biting his lip with need. Through his white pants, Harry could see the outline of his cock and Merlin, it was beautiful. His mouth watered at the sight.

“Like what you see?” Draco smiled smugly, “Not that I blame you, Potter.”

Harry snorted. “Think you’re that good at shagging?”

“The best,” Draco replied, never missing a beat.

“Prove it then. Shag me until I can’t walk for days.” Harry cupped his erection through his own pants and rubbed it, groaning at the friction. “If you’re not scared, that is.”

Draco grunted and strode over to the bed. He slid onto the mattress and grasped Harry’s ankle, dragging his body closer. Harry chuckled, kicking at the other man playfully. Draco grabbed his legs and smirked, spreading his ankles and dragging him as close as he could get him. When he was done, Draco was sitting between Harry’s thighs.

“Sure you can handle me while you aren’t in a dream state, Potter?”

Harry rolled his eyes. “I’m sure you aren’t that hard to handle, Malfoy.”

“Oh I will be hard, Potter, very hard.” Draco slipped his hands in his pants and Harry’s gaze followed. He shifted the band of the pants down, exposing his rock hard cock for Harry’s eyes to feast on. 

Harry licked his lips. “Draco, get up here.”

Draco raised an eyebrow, but did as he was told. He was careful not to bump Harry’s stomach as he raised himself on the bed so his knees dipped into the bed on either side of Harry’s head. Harry wrapped a hand around the base of Draco’s thick cock and licked the slit, swallowing the pre-come that his tongue caught. Draco exhaled in response. Harry smirked and started at the base, licking along the hard length and leaving a wet stripe of saliva as he went. When he reached the tip again, he took the head of the erection into his mouth and sucked on it. He hollowed his cheeks and took more of Draco’s cock inside of his mouth.

Draco’s fingers entangled in his messy locks and entwined themselves around the strands, tugging at them. “Potter, if you keep teasing me, I’m going to come before I even get to shag you.”

Harry released Draco’s cock from his mouth with a pop. “Well we don’t want that, do we? You should have just said that you wouldn’t be able to last long, Draco.”

Draco snorted and shook his head. “I can go from soft to hard in no time, Potter. I just didn’t want you to be embarrassed that I have a better recovery time than you do.”

Harry chuckled as Draco returned to his position between Harry’s legs. Draco’s fingers hooked around the waistband of Harry’s pants and tugged at them, dragging them over his arse and down his thighs. Harry lifted his hips to help him and groaned when his cock bounced free from its constraints.

He gasped when he felt hot suction around the head of his cock. He glanced down, surprised. He didn’t actually expect Draco to give him a blow job. His hand grasped Draco’s styled hair, mussing it as he tugged on the strands of fine blond. 

Draco’s tongue danced over his cock, tracing visible veins from the base of it to the tip. His eyes watched Harry like a predator staking its claim as he sucked on the cock eagerly. Harry swallowed nervously, intrigued as Draco lowered his mouth until his nose touched Harry’s pubic hair and the tip of his cock was touching the back of Draco’s throat.

Harry threw his head back and groaned. His thighs quivered as he restrained himself from thrusting up into Draco’s mouth. He didn’t think the Slytherin would appreciate it. His fingers tugged at Draco’s hair harder and he felt the touchy nerves buzz in his body until he didn’t think he could take it anymore.

“Draco. Want…want you now.” Harry sucked on his bottom lip to stop himself from crying out loudly.

Draco swallowed around his cock, before pulling back. He pressed a soft kiss on the slit of Harry’s cock and winked at him.

“That’s what you call a blowjob.”

“I don’t want to know who you learned that off,” Harry huffed.

Draco rolled his eyes and chuckled. He pushed down his pants until they were bunched around his knees and grasped his discarded wand. “Spread your legs.”

“Madame Pomfrey said not to use the spelled lube while I’m pregnant,” Harry reminded Draco softly, his eyes focused on the wand. As much as he wanted Draco, he didn’t want to rush into anything that could hurt the babies either. He had taken the nurse’s advice seriously.

Draco groaned and threw it aside again. “I forgot,” he grumbled as he rose from the bed, kicking off his pants. He made his way over to his cupboard and as soon as he opened the doors, he rummaged through the lower parts of it. It was clear to Harry that he knew exactly where a tube of lube was, so he didn’t question him. 

Finally, Draco made a noise of triumph before he was back on the bed faster than Harry had ever seen him move before. Harry snorted in amusement and spread his legs in invitation and Draco didn’t refuse. His hands were everywhere, feeling Harry like he’s never done before, but they always seem to travel straight back to his stomach, petting the expanded skin. He pressed a soft kiss to the baby bump, a rare tender moment that Harry relished in, before Draco was back to his smirking self.

“Raise your legs,” he ordered.

Harry did as he was told, but found that with his belly, it wasn’t easy to hold his legs up in the air. He wiggled and bent his knees, grasping his own ankles to keep them in place. Even that was uncomfortable. Nevertheless excitement coursed through his veins as he heard Draco pop open the lid of the lube. When he felt a wet finger at his hole, his cock jerked in desire, the muscles of his arse clenching in anticipation. It had been so long and he questioned his decision to wait. It was an idiotic move, but dear Merlin, it was going to make this shag so worth it. 

One finger slipped inside of his tight hole, stretching the clenching entrance. It felt good, just right, and he wanted so much more. He pushed back against it impatiently.

“Come on, Draco. I’m not a virgin.”

Draco snorted in amusement as he nodded towards Harry’s stomach. “Obviously,” he snickered.

“Just get to it,” Harry grinned.

“Bossy,” Draco retorted, but he didn’t argue. He added a second and third finger at the same time.

Harry’s hole stretched around the digits, causing a familiar sting of pain to shoot through his arse. Desire bombarded him and he groaned. While the pain had once been uncomfortable, it was just part of the pleasure of sex these days and Harry loved every bit of it.

Once the forth finger was in, Draco leaned over for a kiss. Harry tried to reach up for him, but with his belly in the way and in such an uncomfortable position, he couldn’t get high enough. Their lips were inches apart, unable to reach each other.

Harry let out a grunt and shifted. “Draco, stop.”

Draco immediately halted, pulling his fingers out and sitting back on his knees. He guided Harry’s legs down onto the bed. “Are you okay?”

“I can’t do it this way,” Harry grumbled. “Not on my back. It’s too uncomfortable.”

And Merlin, didn’t that suck. Harry loved sex on his back, he loved looking up at his partner – which would now and forever be Draco – as he fucked him hard enough for Harry to see stars. But with his pregnant belly, it would be too damned uncomfortable for him to do anything.

Draco didn’t complain though. He rested his hands on Harry’s hips and helped him turn over onto his knees. A soft kiss was laid between Harry’s shoulder blades, before Draco was kneading his arse cheeks with his knuckles. Harry’s body relaxed under the touch.

“Sorry,” Harry muttered in embarrassment while pressing his face into a pillow so Draco wouldn’t see his blush. 

Draco snorted in amusement. “It’s fine. We’ll do this however it’s comfortable for you, Harry.”

Harry’s hands clenched when he heard the snick of the lube again and he waited patiently until he felt the head of Draco’s cock teasing his hole. He didn’t push in like Harry expected him to. His cock slid between Harry’s cheeks, taunting him with the pressure of his hard, lube-slicked erection. Harry’s patience was worn thin and he pushed his arse back eagerly.

“Fuck me,” he whispered.

“Say it louder.”

Harry could hear the smirk in Draco’s voice. He groaned in irritation. “Malfoy…”

“Say it louder.”

A shiver ran down Harry’s back when Draco pressed another kiss between his shoulder blades, causing his cock to press harder against Harry’s arse.

“Fuck me, Draco,” Harry whimpered louder.

It seemed to satisfy Draco because his cock pressed into Harry in an agonisingly slow pace. Not liking the slowness, Harry thrust his arse back, taking Draco’s cock fully inside of him. They both moaned when Draco’s balls slapped against Harry’s arse. The familiar burn sent pleasure straight to Harry’s cock.

“Salazar,” Draco hissed, his fingernails digging into Harry’s hips. “Merlin, it’s been so long.”

Harry couldn’t have agreed more. What the hell had he been thinking when he decided to wait so long? Fuck his stupid decisions. He rocked his hips experimentally, groaning. Draco’s cock felt so big inside of him, so right.

“Move,” Harry demanded impatiently, rocking his arse back against Draco’s hips that sat flushed against him.

“Patience, Potter,” Draco teased with a smirk. His grip on Harry’s hips tightened, holding him still.

Harry snorted. “I don’t need patience. Just fuck me.”

Draco licked his lips and rolled his hips forward, pushing himself as far into Harry as he could go. When he did it for the second time, Harry thought he was going to lose his mind as his cock jerked impatiently and his heart sped up. Heat pooled in his groin and his fingers clenched around the duvet beneath them. He didn’t know how much longer he could take of Draco’s teasing before he’d try to take control. Luckily, it wasn’t very long.

Draco took the hint and pulled out, only to thrust back into Harry hard and fast. If it hadn’t been for Draco’s steady hold, Harry would have crashed forward from the sudden onslaught. Harry steadied himself by gripping the headboard and pushed back against Draco, meeting him halfway.

They moved together, their movements uncoordinated and needy. Each thrust of Draco’s hips brought moans to both of their lips. His cock slammed into Harry’s arse, his balls slapping his cheeks. It felt so damn right and Merlin, he wanted more. 

Harry cocked his head to the side and as though Draco could read his mind, their lips met in a passionate kiss. Draco’s chest was planted firmly against Harry’s back, his cock buried deep inside of his hole as their tongues tangled and lips mashed together.

Harry was the one who broke the kiss, his breath heavy and his chest heaving.

“So close,” Harry whimpered.

Draco groaned in agreement as his hips moved once more. 

Harry wrapped his hand around his cock, jerking it in time with Draco’s thrusts. His balls were so tight against his body, he felt like they were about to explode. He knew that he couldn’t take much more before he really would erupt.

The heat in his groin grew more intense and his cock was so hard that it felt like he could hit a baseball with it. It was only when Draco buried his large erection inside of Harry again that Harry let go. His body jerked forward, his thighs quivering, as spurts of semen coated his hand and the duvet as it erupted from his cock. 

Draco groaned behind him, his fingernails digging deep into Harry’s hips. Warmth filled Harry’s arse and they both moaned again.

Draco’s breathing was laboured as he pulled out, collapsing on the bed beside Harry. He reached over for his wand on the bedside cabinet and flicked it, cleaning the mess beneath his lover.

Harry sighed in relief as he turned over to lie on his back, his own breathing shallow as he took in much needed air. His hand rubbed his expanded stomach and his eyes drifted over to Draco, who was half asleep.

“Best. Sex. Ever,” Harry laughed.

Draco smiled, his half-closed eyes finally clenching shut. “You can thank me later.”

Harry laughed louder and watched with a smile as Draco fell asleep. As Draco’s breathing evened out, Harry squirmed his way under the duvet, his naked skin prickling from the night air. He closed his eyes, following his Incubus to much needed sleep.

***

Harry glanced at Draco and smiled. He looked relaxed, a wave of peace running over the lines of his face as he deeply slept. It was always a beautiful sight to see because he’d never seen Draco so serene until he slept.

Pulling on his clothes, Harry walked out of Draco’s bedroom and moved slowly down the hallway. The ball had long finished and the manor was as silent as the dead. It wasn’t an eerie silence though; it was as peaceful as being with Draco. Harry felt safe in the home of his new family. 

He took the hallway to the left, which lead him to the beautiful Malfoy gardens. The last time he was at the manor, for Christmas, Draco had shown him the gardens and Harry had hardly left them. Beautiful was an understatement. Flowers of different colours flourished in the maze like greens, adorning it with bright light and rich smells. There was an array of species from plain Muggle flowers and plants to those of Magic. Harry truly loved walking through them.

As he neared the middle of the maze, he frowned at some crushed plants that seemed to wilt under the white light of the moon. Mrs. Malfoy, or Narcissa as she recently demanded to be called, took good care of her gardens and she wouldn’t have allowed something like that to happen. 

Harry remembered her telling him about those specific plants. ‘They are magical,’ she had said, ‘and have the ability of sensing the atmosphere and emotions. If they sense danger, they will wilt and die.’

Harry swallowed thickly and took a step back. If they sensed danger than he was in the middle of it and that was somewhere he didn’t want to be. He had children to think about. He would just have to wake Draco up, warn him of what happened.

He spun on his heel and halted immediately. Eyes widening, he stared at a tall, familiar man that stood in his path.

Glassy eyes stared at him, a sad downturned mouth pursed. “You’re not going anywhere, Mr. Potter.” His voice held no real conviction and it sounded as though it was the last thing he wanted to say.

“Mr. Winchester?” Harry took a step back, his shoes crunching the stones beneath them. “What are you doing here?”

“He’s here because I asked him to be.”

Harry flinched at the voice as Mrs. Winchester stepped out of path behind her husband. She was just as sour looking as Harry remembered her, but her pudgy appearance seemed to have grown worse. The greying black hair that Harry remembered was now completely grey, worry lines permanently etched into her aging face. Her beady brown eyes had a new tint to them, a crazy look that had Harry taking another step back. What had happened to this woman?

“Mrs. Winchester, whatever you’re thinking about doing—”

“Oh shut up, Boy.” Mrs. Winchester took a step forward, her short legs seemingly buckling with the step. “You did this. You did this to us!”

Harry felt his pockets, but when he realised his wand wasn’t there, that he had left it on the bedside cabinet, he mentally cursed himself. He thought he would be safe in the gardens, he had no idea…no. He could do this, he could make Mrs. Winchester see that he was pregnant, she couldn’t hurt him.

“What did I do?” He asked in a soft voice, intentionally laying a hand on his stomach so she could see it.

Mrs. Winchester laughed manically and shook a thick finger at him. “You think you’re so smart, Potter, but you’re not. No, you’re not. Where is your Incubus now when you need him, hm? Some protector he is.”

Harry bit his tongue as the words ‘I don’t need a protector. I can take care of myself’ popped into his head. No, no antagonising the crazy lady without his wand. He had two babies to think about. “You wouldn’t hurt me though, would you, Mrs. Winchester?”

Harry saw Mr. Winchester drop his head, his eyes clenched closed, and Harry’s stomach dropped. Did he believe his wife would really hurt a pregnant man?

“You destroyed our Lord,” she cried angrily, her voice turning screechy; “you did that! I’ll kill you for it, Potter. I’ll kill you for it!”

Harry briefly wondered where Mundy was. Maybe he could stop his crazy mother.

He took another step back, his eyes darting around the dirt path and flowers and plants, looking for anything to use as a weapon. He zeroed in on a very thick looking tree branch. It was thin enough to wrap a hand around, and light enough for Harry to pick up, but sturdy looking; the perfect weapon to swing at a crazy lady.

“Where is your son?” Harry asked, attempting to distract Mrs. Winchester from her tyrant of words about Voldemort.

“Oh Mundy,” she laughed again, “He didn’t believe in our cause. I had to lock him up.”

Harry’s eyes widened. She had locked up her own son? “How could you? He’s your son.”

She shook her head, pieces of dried hair falling across her face. “Did you not hear me, Potter? He didn’t believe in our cause. He loved his ponce of a brother and he hated our Lord. He had to be locked away, for his own safety. He was such a bad boy. When we sent you that hexed letter, he was so angry. Told me he’d tell everyone it was me.”

Realisation dawned on Harry. “You did that?” He asked, anger replacing any fear that he did have. This woman was the reason he nearly lost Draco. She was the one who tried to kill him and their children.

“Of course,” she grinned, her teeth crooked and yellow. “I wanted to kill you, both of you, for what you did to me.”

Anger seized his body and the self-control he held onto disappeared. With speed that he didn’t even realise he possessed while being five and a half months pregnant, he picked up the long, thick branch and swung it.

The branch hit Mrs. Winchester on the side of the face, the bark digging into the skin of her cheek. She let out a wail of surprise and dropped to the ground. Mr. Winchester didn’t seem to move, his face frozen in shock as he watched his wife land on the dirt and scream. It was only when she pointed at Harry and yell for him to kill him that Mr. Winchester seemed to break out of his reverie.

Instead of taking a step towards Harry though, he took a step back, his head shaking from side to side. “I…I can’t.”

“Do it, you useless man,” Mrs. Winchester screamed, her voice sharp and frantic.

“No!” Mr. Winchester stumbled back, his head still shaking furiously. “No!”

Harry’s hand tightened around the branch, ready for another swing if he needed it. But he didn’t, and he knew that as soon as he heard a shout of rage.

Draco came roaring down the maze, his parents not far behind him. His eyes were dark silver, his mouth pressed thinly and pure wrath settled on his face as he advanced on Mrs. Winchester. His wand was held so tightly in his hands, that Harry thought he’d break the piece of wood in half.

Harry found that Draco didn’t need his wand though. With one look from Draco, Mrs. Winchester was flat on the ground, begging for her life. She apologised profusely, her plump body shaking in fear. Draco didn’t seem to care as he took a step towards her, anger that Harry had never seen before clear on his face.

Narcissa or Lucius didn’t attempt to stop Draco as he advanced forward, his body stiff as he crouched beside her. She begged louder, more hysterically, but he didn’t seem to hear her as he laid his palm over the length of her face. The screams quietened, her body stiffer than Draco’s ever was, as her eyes closed.

Mr. Winchester watched, fear in his eyes, but he didn’t move. He was so still, he looked like a statue.

As all this happened, Narcissa walked over to Harry and brought his head against her shoulder. She turned him away from the sight of Draco and Mrs. Winchester.

“Are you okay, Harry?” Her voice was soothing, but tight with worry.

“Yes,” Harry answered. “What is he doing to her?”

“He is getting his well-deserved revenge.” 

It wasn’t a lie and Harry was grateful. “How?”

“And Incubus is a master of dreams, Harry, and he is putting her into a nightmare. A nightmare that she will never wake up from. She will forever be stuck in her head.”

Harry hated Mrs. Winchester for what she had tried to do, but the thought of what Draco was doing to her sent waves of pity flushing over him. “Is he allowed to do that?”

“No one will stop him,” Narcissa kissed the top of his forehead, “Not only does she deserve it, but he is an Incubus protecting his mate and children. No one has the right to stop him.”

Any sounds coming from Mrs. Winchester stopped altogether and a growl of warning broke the silent gardens. Narcissa stepped away immediately, her head bowed apologetically towards Draco as he neared them.

Harry stared at Draco, before holding out his hand. 

Draco’s anger seemed to drip away as he smiled softly and wrapped his strong arms around Harry, bringing him flush against his warm body. It felt good to be in his Incubus’ arms, it felt like home, and Harry clung to him.

“Are you okay?” Draco’s voice was soft, worry etched into his tone.

“I’m fine, Draco,” Harry answered, pressing a kiss on Draco’s beautiful, pale cheek. He grinned. “See, I can look after myself.”

Draco chuckled quietly. “Why didn’t you take your wand?”

Harry frowned at his own stupidity. “I thought I’d be safe in the gardens.”

Draco shook his head in exasperation. “Potter, you are so stupid sometimes.”

Harry snorted, but didn’t reply.

Draco laid a hand on Harry’s rounded stomach and caressed it. He stared down at it lovingly. “What are we going to do with your daddy, my little children? He needs more protecting than I originally thought.”

Harry rolled his eyes, before glancing behind Draco. Mrs. Winchester’s body was angled in a weird position, her eyes wide and full of fear. Her mouth was open, her tongue sticking out. It was no longer a light pink, but instead it was a dark purple.

Mr. Malfoy held Mr. Winchester at wand-point and started to lead him away from Harry and Draco.

“I didn’t know that you could do that,” Harry murmured, feeling sick at the sight.

Draco cupped his jaw and turned his head away from the sight. “Only when someone hurts an Incubus’ mate or children can we do something like that. She deserved it, Harry, she tried to kill you and our children.”

“So what? She’s in a nightmare?” he frowned.

Draco sighed. “Do you know when you have those terrifying nightmares that wake you up? The ones that have you so terrified that you don’t want to open your eyes?”

Harry nodded.

“She’s in one of those and she’ll never be able to wake up. I put her there, in her own mind, because she deserves to be there.”

Draco’s words made Harry remember about Mundy. “Draco! She’s locked Mundy away. She locked him up because he found out that she sent that letter to me and he was going to tell someone.”

Draco didn’t seem impressed with Harry mentioning Mundy, but none the less he turned to his mother. She nodded with a smile.

“Do not worry yourself, Harry, we’ll make sure Mr. Winchester tells us where he is and we’ll get him out of there.” She patted Draco on the shoulder before following the same path that her husband had left through.

“Harry…” Draco licked his lips, his hand still rubbing circles on Harry’s stomach. “Are you sure you’re okay? You didn’t…regret what we did?”

Harry snorted. He ran a palm down Draco’s cheek, a soft smile on his lips. “Merlin no. I want to know when we can do it again.”

Draco’s worry disappeared, leaving a smirk on his lips. “How about now?”

Harry wiggled his eyebrows playfully. “What are we waiting for then?"


	11. Epilogue

“I count one, two, three, four, five toes on this little foot.” Harry wiggled one of his newborn sons’ toes. He grinned when the baby’s eyes watched him carefully.

“What about the other foot? Does he have five on that one too?”

Harry snorted and glanced up at his boyfriend as he entered the room with their other son cradled in his arms. 

“I’ve counted both of his feet already, Draco, five times.”

“So count them again, you can never be too sure.” Draco grinned, a teasing light in his eyes as he lowered himself into the chair beside Harry.

The birth of their sons, Alaric Lucian and Kaiser Jamie, was problem-free and took up to fourteen hours of labour. Harry swore that it was the hardest thing he ever did, but also one of the most amazing. The sight of both of his sons had him on a high and between his own emotions and Draco’s, he’d never felt so much joy in one room. 

Alaric and Kaiser were identical, right down to their small fluff of dark hair and bright blue eyes. While they had Harry’s colouring on their skin and hair, they were all Draco in the face. From their pointy chins, the roundness of their cheeks, to their pretty noses, no one could deny who their father was. 

After Harry was released from St. Mungos, Draco had led Harry in a completely new direction. He had led him to a house he’d never seen before, a house that Draco claimed was now theirs. Harry had never been so happy in his life.

While they were taking a break after the birth of their beautiful children, school work still came to them thanks to Headmistress McGonagall. They also still had their exams coming up, much to Harry’s disappointed. Apparently giving birth was not a good enough reason to get out of exams. Narcissa had no problem stepping up and claiming she’d babysit her grandsons when Draco and Harry had their exams though.

Both Narcissa and Molly were doting grandmothers. Molly took on the role with ease and Harry had never been so happy. She had always been the one that he considered a mother figure growing up and he wanted her to become a grandmother figure to his children as well. He didn’t even have to ask her, she was there from the moment he entered the hospital with contractions.

The Weasleys accepted Draco and his parents into their fold and honestly, they really were one big family. It was tense at first, but soon grew loving and loud, just like a family should be.

After some long discussions, Harry and Draco decided to make Hermione and Ron the godparents of Kaiser, and Theo and Luna were those of Alaric. Harry didn’t know who was more shocked, Theo or everyone else. But Theo took the role seriously and became one of the best friends Draco and Harry could have ever asked for. He had a big role in their family’s life.

True to what everyone else told him, after the birth of their sons, Draco calmed enough that Harry could touch people and they could touch him. While there was still jealousy and possessiveness, he wasn’t as bad as when Harry was pregnant.

“What are you thinking about?” Draco asked, breaking Harry out of thought.

“How happy I am,” Harry answered with a smile.

Draco grinned. “Well, I don’t blame you. We do make some good looking children, don’t we?”

Harry nodded with a laugh. “We do.”

“You know, we could always try for another one.” While there was a teasing light in his eyes, Harry could also see that his Incubus was serious.

“Oh we will,” Harry said earnestly, “Just give it a little while first. If you didn’t notice, I just got my body back. I want to keep it this way for a short while before you knock me up again.”

Draco smirked. “Yes, you do look shaggable.”

“Oh? Did I not look shaggable when I was pregnant?” He teased.

“You know I thought you were sexy when you were pregnant. I couldn’t keep my hands off you.”

Harry smiled, before glancing down at Kaiser in his arms. The baby boy sucked his small fingers into his mouth, his azure eyes watching Harry curiously. He was so small in Harry’s arms, but so perfect. 

Harry thoughts fell on Mrs. Winchester, who he’d thought about a lot in the last three and a half months. Whenever he asked Draco about her, he ignored the question and changed the topic. Harry had tried to ask Mundy, who he saw immediately at school, but the younger man had ignored the question as well; informing him that Draco didn’t want him talking about her. 

“Draco, tell me what happened to her.”

Draco stiffened and pursed his lips. Clearly, he knew exactly what Harry wanted to know. “Harry, I don’t think—”

“Please?” Harry stared at him pleadingly. “Tell me.”

Draco sighed. He rearranged Alaric to a more comfortable position in his arms and rested back against the lounge chair. “She was taken to St. Mungos where she will stay for the rest of her life, forever in her nightmare.”

“Could she ever come out of it?”

Draco was silent for a moment, before finally nodding. “It’s possible. If she was strong enough. It would take her years though if she can at all and if that happens, I’ll just go there and put her back in the nightmare.” He turned to stare at Harry. His lips were pressed tightly together, his eyes wild with anger. “Anyone who tries to hurt my family will forever be in pain. Forever.”

Harry didn’t want to feel guilty, the woman deserved it. But none the less, he did feel something for her situation. Pity, sympathy, he really didn’t know what it was. He glanced down at Kaiser again and smiled down at the beautiful little boy.

“Thank you, Draco,” he murmured, his eyes never leaving his son.

“For what?” Draco asked.

“For giving me two beautiful children. For giving me the family I’ve always wanted. For not giving up on me.”

Draco stood and with Alaric in one hand, he held out the other to Harry. 

Harry took it and rose, leaning in to kiss the man that he’d spend the rest of his life with. “I love you.”

Draco’s smile nearly broke his face. “I love you too, Potter. Hey, do you suppose mum or Molly will want to babysit, just so I can shag my boyfriend into the bed without interruptions.”

Harry laughed. “I’m sure they wouldn’t have a problem with it…”

FIN.


End file.
